The Camera Never Lies
by amythedork
Summary: After a messy break up in high school, Rachel Berry is not hotshot movie producer Noah Puckerman's favorite person. When the two join up to work on a movie, they're shocked to learn that they have to form a fake relationship in order to increase interest.
1. Chapter 1

****Pairing: ****Puck/Rachel  
><strong><strong>Rating: <strong>**M  
><strong><strong>Word Count: <strong>**6000  
><strong><strong>Summary: <strong>**Future fic. After a messy break up in high school, Rachel Berry is not hotshot movie producer Noah Puckerman's favorite person. When the two join forces to work on a movie, they're shocked to learn that they have to form a fake relationship in order to increase the public's interest.  
><strong><strong>AN: ****So this is my first ever multi-chaptered fic, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't intimidated by the idea! But nevertheless, here's the first chapter, and welcome to the messy, sexy, and frustrating relationship that only Puck and Rachel can have. I really hope you guys like it! :)

… … …

Noah Puckerman drains the last of his bottle of beer and looks around his new kitchen, grinning hugely. It looks amazing, but It's not finished yet. Yeah, he's had the walls painted and cabinets fitted, and his newly-purchased refrigerator is massive, but there are still boxes piled up everywhere filled with plates and shit. The little beach house is a maze of even more boxes and stacked furniture, but it's cool. He's got all the time in the world to get it organized, and there's no pressure whatsoever. This place is his. All his, and he's pretty damn excited about it.

The best part about this new house? It's not the fact that it's surrounded by palm trees, or even the fact that he has his own pool, or that the house itself is on a hill overlooking the ocean. The barbeque area on the patio is pretty fucking sweet, but it's not that either. No, with this house he gets his own _maid service_. And after fucking six years of living in shitty apartments covered in rust, grime, and dust, the thought that he never again has to suffer arm cramps from trying to clean goddamn blood stains off of grungy tiles is fucking heaven.

A beach house in Los Angeles. Who the fuck would have thought that Noah Puckerman would have ended up here? _He_ sure as hell didn't. But he's not complaining. LA is loud and busy yeah, but he's forty minutes away from the city and he fucking loves it. He _deserves_ to love it. He's worked his fucking ass off to get here.

It started the summer he'd finished high school, eighteen-years-old, freshly-dumped, and watching his friends leave Lima one-by-one to go to colleges all over the country. Finn, his best friend, hadn't been accepted into any college but he'd enlisted in the army instead, something about wanting to follow in his father's footsteps. He'd been the last to leave Lima, and after driving Finn to the airport, Puck had sat on his front porch completely alone. He'd been stupid, and hadn't made any plans for after school. He was all about living for the moment, which had been really kind of dumb, now that he thinks about it.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" He'd asked his mom when she got home from work, and she'd sighed tiredly.

"We tried to tell you, Noah," She said as he followed her into the house. "We all did. Especially-"

"I know, I know," He interrupted her grumpily, slamming the door behind him a little harder than necessary. "So what, do I get a job or...?"

His mom had shrugged off her cardigan and turned to him then, stroking his cheek sympathetically. He'd let her. "Find your passion, Noah."

It had been the worst fucking advice in the world, because how the hell are you supposed to just magically find your passion? His _passion, _or whatever, had always been guitar, but he didn't want to go study music or try to get work based on that. It would take all of the fun out of playing for him, and that would totally suck. So he tried a bunch of stuff, getting jobs in the most random places (he made a kick-ass park ranger), but none of them ever lasted. He just didn't enjoy any of them.

It was as a last resort he grabbed a bunch of community college brochures and began flicking through them one weekend, trying to find a couple of classes that didn't make him want to, you know, light himself on fire. He became interested when he found a film course, focusing on all aspects of the art including writing, production, editing, and analysis. He was sick of working shitty jobs and terrible hours, so he signed up, thinking that watching films in all of his classes and being graded for it sounded like a pretty sweet deal.

The thing is, the classes sure as fuck weren't easy. Fucking stressful is a better word to describe them. The analysis class studied films the way his high school English classes used to study novels, and it was fucking excruciating at times. But to his surprise, he was actually good at it. The first essay he ever wrote for that class got him an A, and his mom was so ecstatic that she actually stuck the paper to the fridge like he was Hannah's age. He didn't really mind though. He was proud of himself too.

Shockingly, he was a natural at everything. He came up with some kick-ass short film ideas, flew through the instructive editing classes with flying colors, and produced films with his classmates like a fucking boss. He made this one movie in his second year at college about fear and paranoia, and it actually got screened at some short film festival.  
>By the time he'd graduated (top of his class), he had a bunch of contacts in the industry and a job lined up at a little production studio in LA. So he moved, and his mom had cried for a week beforehand. She'd never been more proud of him.<p>

The job hadn't been anything major, but it got him experience, gave him some shit to put on his resumé, and he'd earned enough to rent this crappy little apartment down town. He'd hated that place, hated how dirty it was, hated his neighbors, but it was the best he was going to get on his salary.

Nearly two years after he'd started working for the company, he produced this little independent movie. It hadn't been his favorite project, but they'd somehow managed to get Dakota Fanning and Emily Browning to star in it and because of that, interest had increased on a huge fucking scale. When the movie was released, it shot straight into the box office top five, and suddenly offers were like, pouring in for him. He quit his job at the little studio and moved on to bigger and better things.

(He got his own IMDB page and it was one of the proudest moments of his life, he's not gonna lie.)

He was in that crappy apartment for another half a year, because even though the money in his bank account had slowly started piling up, the first thing he did with it was pay off his mom's debt, and give a bunch to Hannah for her college fund. That was always the first thing he said he'd do if he ever got rich, because they'd struggled with money so fucking much as he was growing up. It was an amazing feeling to know that he could help out with their financial issues, and his mom had been grateful and emotional when he'd showed up in Lima with a big-ass check. He told her to man up and stop crying, and she'd laughed and covered his face in kisses against his protests.

The next apartment he got was slightly better, though the hot water was sometimes temperamental, and it was in a really loud part of the city, surrounded by a bunch of night clubs. He spent seven months there, and in that time, he somehow managed to produce a massive blockbuster film. He'd been so fucking lucky. The studio had taken a chance on him, since he was still climbing up the ladder, and he'd really only got the job because of his charm and charisma, but it had been an incredible experience, and the movie turned out to be one of the most successful films of the year. Suddenly, magazines were requesting interviews with him, and he had meetings with famous directors and screenwriters, _and_ he somehow had hundreds of thousands in his bank account. Tabloids were writing about him, because let's face it, he's hot as fuck, and he started dating a bunch of models and actresses. People became interested.

And now he's just signed up to produce his second big-budget film, and with the advance on his paycheck he's bought his own place, _and_ hired a bunch of over-priced decorators to design it just the way he wants, simply because he can afford it now.

It's the best feeling, not having to worry about shit, and to celebrate, he goes to the fridge and pulls out another bottle of beer, removing the cap by slamming the head hard against the edge of the kitchen counter. He doesn't care about scratching the surface – they're being replaced tomorrow.

Whistling to himself, Puck makes his way into the living room and sits on the floor, grabbing the nearest box. It's full of little things – books, pictures, and the few trophies and awards he's won at various film festivals. He pulls them out and starts making neat little piles like his mom told him to do, and scoffs suddenly when he pulls out his old high school yearbook. He takes a long gulp of his beer and opens the book, absent-mindedly flicking to the page that contains pictures of his old Glee club. The center picture is of New Directions at Nationals, 2012. Somehow, he'd managed to talk Mr Schuester into letting him be male lead for the contest, and the picture shows him lifting Rachel Berry high into the air as part of the choreography, while the rest of the choir dance behind them. They're both smiling as they sing, and Rachel looks like a fucking fairy or something. He rolls his eyes amusedly. Unsurprisingly, she'd been the girl to sing the duet with him, and together they'd gotten first place. Honestly? He'd expected it. They'd been dating at the time, and she'd made him practice with her every night, starting a month before the competition. He remembers her rule suddenly, and it makes him bark out a dry laugh - if they didn't practice, he wasn't allowed to make out with her. He'd been totally whipped and he didn't even mind.

She was the girl who had broken up with him at the beginning of summer that year. After a full year together, they ended on bad terms, and he scowls at the memory.

Puck closes the book and shoves it aside, unpacking a few more boxes before giving up for the night. He's pretty damn tired after spending the day moving his shit from the city to the new place. He finishes his beer and thinks of jumping into the pool despite the fact that it's getting dark outside, but the doorbell rings, interrupting his thoughts.

It's Laura, the model he's been seeing casually for the last couple of weeks, and he smirks at the sight of her, opening the door a little wider to let her in. She looks impressed at the sight of this new house.

"Thought you had a shoot tonight," He says, and she giggles, deliberately brushing her body against his as she slides past him.

"Canceled," She says throatily, and kicks her heels off, shrugging out of her jacket and handing it to Puck. He takes it and hangs it up, eyeing her hungrily. "So this is your new place, huh? Can I explore?"

"Babe, I'd rather you explored me instead."

She bites her lip and steps closer to him, her perfectly-manicured hand moving to cup him through his jeans. "You got it. Let's go."

And that's how he ends up sitting back on the couch, eyes closed as the blond kneels before him, enthusiastically sucking him off.

Yeah, so his life pretty much rules right now.

… … …

The following morning, he wakes up in his boxers on the couch, simply because he doesn't have a bed set up yet. Laura isn't around – he pretty much kicked her out last night after sexing her up real good, using the excuse that he had to be up early. It wasn't completely a lie, it's just that he hates having chicks around in the morning, when they're all cuddly and want breakfast and stuff. Who really needs that shit?

He has a casting session today, for the movie. It's the kind of casting session that he actually looks forward to, because today they're looking for the female lead. Honestly, there's nothing better than eyeing up hot actresses all day, and the fact that he gets paid for that shit is a-fucking-mazing. So yeah, he's pretty excited about it.  
>Puck gets up from the couch and stretches, before walking over to the patio doors and stepping out into his garden. The heatwave hits him the second he steps outside, and he closes his eyes for a second as the rays of sunlight warm his naked chest. He's moves to stand over the railing and spends a moment watching the sun's reflection sparkling in the calm water below him. Yeah, he loves California.<p>

… … …

His good mood has completely disappeared by five in the afternoon. The heatwave has risen dramatically, and spending the day in a stuffy room while sitting around a table with four other people is definitely not the best way to cool down. There's sweat trickling down the back of his neck and he legit wants to just drown himself in ice cold water or something.

They've seen, in total, around thirty chicks so far (including Katherine Heigl. Fucking sexy as hell, by the way) and there's about five more to go. He legit couldn't be happier about that, and as the other people in the room read over the resumé of the next actress, Puck zones out, hunching over the table and letting out a pathetic moan.

"Alright there, Puckerman?" The director Ben laughs, and claps a hand on his shoulder sympathetically.

"S'fucking hot," Puck grumbles, and right on cue, an assistant enters the room with glasses of ice-cold water for Ben, Puck, Puck's co-producer Nick, and the two casting directors, Sally and Christina.

"Shit, Emma, I fuckin' worship you," Puck says to the young redhead assistant as she places a glass in front of him. Emma is straight out of college and looking for experience in the industry, and it's no secret that she's a little bit in love with Puck. She blushes fiercely and giggles, accidentally spilling some of Ben's water from his glass. Instantly, a horrified expression appears on her face and she quickly stammers an apology, but Ben brushes it off with a kind smile, simply asking her to go grab some napkins and send the next girl in.

"You've got all of these poor young ladies wrapped around your finger, don't you Puck?" Sally fondly rolls her eyes, and he winks at her charmingly.

"Sure do, babe. But I like 'em better when they're wrapped around my-"

"Okay! That's enough!" Christina interrupts quickly, and everyone laughs, including Puck. Grinning at his team, he picks up his drink and presses it to his forehead for a moment, sighing in relief as the cold glass soothes his sweaty skin.

Emma enters the room again and immediately moves to clean up the spilled water. Puck barely notices her though – he's too busy staring in shock at the brunette who followed her into the room and closed the door behind them.

"Rachel Berry, it's great to meet you," Ben says warmly, getting to his feet and holding out his hand for her to shake. She immediately takes it and beams, making her way along the long table and smiling happily as she listens to everyone introduce themselves. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are bright with excitement. She's a fucking tornado of greetings, laughter, and confidence, and she obviously hasn't noticed Puck yet.

"It's so wonderful to meet you! Hi, how are you? It's so hot outside, isn't it? Hello, I- _oh_."

She reaches Puck then, who's slouched back in his chair simply smirking at her. Her mouth falls open and he watches the corners of her lips spread into a small, uncertain smile.

Puck nods at her. "Sup, Berry?"

She shakes her head in disbelief, her hand flying to her face. "Noah. I had no idea you were working on... Hi. How are you?"

"M'alright. You?" His eyes rake over her body, taking in her appearance. She looks fucking incredible in her breezy yellow sundress, her legs (they've _always_ been one of her best features) seemingly elongated in a pair of white heels. Her hair is tied back but is all curly and falling over one shoulder and stuff. She's grown it out, and he can't help but be reminded of the fact that he's always loved her long hair.

Puck can see Ben and Nick watching them carefully, both wearing matching confused but amused expressions. He didn't miss the way they glanced at each other when she called him 'Noah'. No one ever calls him Noah.

He really doesn't know how he feels about seeing her right now. It's a little awkward, considering the fact that the last time he saw her, he called her a selfish bitch.

"I'm good," She says quietly, still wearing that small smile. "I'm good. But anyway, maybe we can catch up later. For now, let's get down to business, shall we?

Everyone laughs at her focused attitude with the exception of Puck, who smirks again and rolls his eyes. Rachel went on a billion auditions back in high school, for local musicals and shit, but she's never auditioned for him before. It's kinda weird that he gets a say in whether they give her this role or not. This should be pretty damn interesting.

"It says here that this is your first ever movie audition? How do you go from the bright lights of Broadway to plain old Hollywood?" Ben smiles at her easily, holding up the papers of her details in front of him. Puck glances down to his own copy, cursing himself out for not paying attention earlier when they were talking about her. Sure enough, there's a huge, glossy picture of her smiling face, alongside a list of her acting credits and other relevant information. Fuck, this is weird. Insanely weird.

"Yes. I've spent my entire life doing stage performances and I feel like it's time for a change. I've always been interested in the film industry and now that I've just finished my latest show, I figured it would be a great time to give it a shot." She talks brightly and quickly, oozing confidence and focus with every word. She hasn't changed a bit.

"And your last show was Wicked, correct?" Sally interjects, and Rachel smiles proudly.

"That's correct. I played Elphaba for over a year. It was a wonderful experience." Her eyes dart towards Puck and he raises his eyebrows, undoubtedly impressed. That was always one of her dream roles. She used to tell him that when they lay on her bed, just talking for hours on end. He knew she was on Broadway (fuck, how could she not be?), but he didn't know the details until now.

She makes cheerful conversation and talks about her acting experience with the crew, but Puck stays silent, choosing to read her acting credentials instead. She starred as Maria in West Side Story. She's already won a Tony. She's obviously accomplished everything she wanted, and it doesn't surprise him even a little bit.

"Okay, Rachel, you know the scene you're going to read? You'll be reading it with Nick, who is in no way a decent actor, so we're counting on you to hold up the scene," Brad grins, challenging her, and Rachel laughs musically, nodding before she takes a deep breath, obviously getting into character.

Thing is though, the character is dark, and a total BAMF. The movie is this psychological thriller, and the script is fucking amazing, and he never would've guessed it would be Rachel's kind of thing at all. The character she's auditioning for has multiple personalities and turns out to be this psycho killer chick, but she's sexy and sassy, and bossy and dominant, and he _should_ be surprised that Rachel Berry fucking nails the part of this cool-as-fuck character, but he's really not. She just takes whatever role and pretty much makes it her bitch, and that's the way it's always been.

She's better than pretty much every other actress that they've seen today, and he kind of resents her for that. He isn't sure yet if he even wants her working on his movie. Whatever.

At the end of the read-through she's still, her face still completely in character until Christina starts the round of applause. Then she breaks, her face splitting into a huge smile. Puck doesn't clap, but he stares at her, eyebrow raised.

Ben lets out a low whistle and she blushes modestly. Puck chuckles bitterly to himself. She's rarely ever fucking modest.

"Rachel, I'm impressed," Ben says, and Nick nods eagerly in agreement, looking like he's about to fucking jizz in his pants or something. "Thanks so much for reading for us today."

"No, no, thank _you_ for the opportunity," She gushes, and Nick looks as though he's in love with her. Pathetic.

She leaves moments later, and Puck groans quietly as the room erupts into praise and comments on Rachel's look and performance. She's totally getting a callback, and there's nothing he can say that will change their mind. He knows that. He still doesn't know if he wants her around. He remains kind of pissed at her, even though their break-up was nearly ten years ago.

"How do you even know her?" Nick asks him, pulling him into the conversation, and he shrugs uninterestedly.

"High school. Used to date her."

"Seriously?" Nick gapes, his brow furrowing. "Lucky bastard."

… … …

Rachel waits in the corridor outside for an hour, watching a few more girls walk in and out of the audition room. Her palms are sweaty, but she knows that it's not because of the stifling heat. She should have left an hour ago, went back to her hotel room and waited for her agent to call her with news of her audition, but she just can't bring herself to leave without catching up with an old friend. It's been almost ten years since she's last seen him, and yes, there are some hard-feelings on both their parts, but that's why they should talk, right? To make things right between them.

Seeing him again brought a whole bunch of feelings flooding back, and she's not sure how to feel about that. She just can't believe it. Seeing was surprising, to say the least. And he looks... He looks _so_ good, that's undeniable. California suits him, and she breathes out a quiet laugh at the thought. She never would have guessed.

She and Noah dated all through their senior year of high school, after he confessed in the summer before school started that he'd always been jealous of her relationship with Finn. He admitted that he'd always wanted her, and she'd never heard him sound more genuine about anything. So she kissed him, and they'd fallen into a relationship quickly and easily. In many ways they were perfect for each other; his laid-back attitude and playful humor balanced her fierce determination, and he was often able to calm her down when she was in full-on rant mode, something that not many people could do. Unlike any relationship she'd had before, he'd loved her because of her flaws, loved her unconditionally, and she loved him too. It was because of that reason that she'd given him her virginity.

Things began to fall apart when the future became an issue. All of a sudden there were college applications, and exams, and important decisions to make, and although none of these things affected Rachel (she'd had her entire life planned out since she was six years old), they were a problem for Noah. He wasn't one for giving the future much thought, and it had frustrated her. She'd tried hard, bringing him college brochures and job application forms, and he'd had absolutely no interest whatsoever. As someone who had a plan for herself for almost every situation, his breezy attitude had worried her. What did it mean for their relationship if he was so uncommitted? After all, she'd been packed to leave for New York and NYU basically since she got the acceptance letter. After months of trying to make him care about himself and his future (and ultimately their relationship), she eventually stopped trying on the day of their graduation, and broke up with him after the ceremony on her front porch. They'd argued for at least an hour, and it still hurts her a little when she thinks of the moment that Noah had called her a 'selfish bitch'. In a way, she'd believed his words because yes, she'd given up on him, but really, had it been so selfish to want to care about her own future for a change, after months of worrying about his?

She sighs softly to herself, before nervously reaching up to fix her hair.

A beautiful blond girl steps out of the room then, and smiles tightly at her before walking towards the exit, brushing her hair confidently over her shoulder. There are no other girls in the corridor, and Rachel hopes that means that auditions are officially over.

It's another twenty minutes before Noah appears with the rest of his co-workers, and she stands up in way of greeting. He raises his eyebrows when he notices her and steps towards her, and she notices that Nick punches him lightly on the arm as the others say their goodbyes.

"Hi," She says softly, and he only nods in acknowledgment. "Can we talk?"

… … …

They end up sitting in a quiet little bar with a relaxed atmosphere and the best mojitos that Rachel has ever tasted. She let's out a satisfied hum as she takes her first sip and she watches Puck smirk at her.

"Good?"

"Yes. It's refreshing. I didn't expect LA to be so warm."

"Warmer than New York?"

"Much."

They sit in silence for a moment as they sip their drinks, and Rachel tries to stop her eyes from flicking over to Noah, where he's absent-mindedly picking at the label on his beer. This whole situation is more than a little awkward.

"Your audition was good today," He says suddenly, breaking the silence. Rachel smiles at him, sitting up a little straighter in her seat. She's glad that he's making a little bit of an effort, and her career is always something that she's been good at talking about.

"Really? Thank you. I've actually been very nervous these last few days."

"Yeah, well, there was no need to be."

She laughs softly, and takes another sip of her drink.

"Actually, you got a callback. Your agent or whatever will probably call you with the details soon." His voice is calm, matter-of-fact, and he's watching her carefully.

Her mouth falls open and she stares at him with wide eyes. "Are you serious?"

He nods, and Rachel lets out a squeal, bouncing a little in her chair. It makes him chuckle and she blushes a little, but she's too happy right now to really care that he's laughing at her. "Oh my God. Thank you! This is wonderful."

He shrugs, wearing a smile she doesn't quite recognize. "You deserved it."

"Oh my God," She says again, hiding her face in her hands for a second as she tries to get control over herself. She can't wait to call her friends back in New York. With a warm smile, she looks back up at the man sitting across from her, shaking her head. "How weird is it that I just auditioned for Noah Puckerman, of all people?"

Noah laughs then, genuinely, and some of that weird tension before seems to disappear a little. "So fucking weird. When I saw you walk into the room I thought I was going goddamn crazy."

"I didn't even know you were working on that movie! I mean, I know you're a producer because I've been playing close attention to the industry over the last year, and I see you in all the magazines, but I didn't know-"

"I never thought you'd do movies. I thought you'd be on Broadway for like, ever. And you're in LA. Why the fuck would _you_ come to LA, when you're New York's biggest fangirl?"

Rachel's cheeks are flushed with pleasure and she giggles. "Sometimes change can be good, you know?"

"Yeah, I know."

… … …

"This is your_ house_?" Rachel's mouth is gaping in astonishment as Puck leads her through to the living room, and she gasps at the glass wall on one side, which looks straight out over the ocean. "Oh, wow_, Noah._"

"Moved in yesterday," He says proudly. "That's why it's kinda messy. Sorry about that."

He can't quite get over how weird this shit is. They have so much history together, and yet they seem to have completely brushed over that, at least for the moment. They spent over an hour in that bar talking about the movie and their careers, and what started out as awkward had turned into something strangely fun.

He only had one beer (though Rachel had like, 3 mojitos), and by the time they left, he was perfectly able to drive. As he drove Rachel to her hotel, they'd both complained about the heat, and somehow they ended up on their way to Puck's place after he said something about being so fucking glad he had a pool, and Rachel absolutely insisted he take her to go get her bathing suit.

"It's just so _pretty_," She sighs wistfully, as she looks around the living room. Rachel slides open the patio doors and steps out into his garden, eyes wide as she takes in the pool, the barbeque area, the view, and the trampoline he bought himself.

She's laughing. "Why on earth do you have a trampoline?"

He grins at her. "Because I _can_."

She shakes her head and steps over to the railing just as he did this morning, looking out at the ocean. It's almost nine o'clock at night and because it's summer, the sun is only just setting. The sky is a pinky-orange color and Rachel lets out an envious breath as he moves to stand beside her, handing her a beer.

"I'm officially jealous of you. I wish we had views like this in Manhattan," She says softly, accepting the bottle. She glances down at it and then back up at Noah, eyes hesitant. "I shouldn't. I've already had a little too much to drink. And you know what happens when I mix them."

"Dare ya." He challenges, and fuck, she looks insanely good right now.

She rolls her eyes playfully and takes a long sip then, letting out a moan of appreciation as the cool liquid hits her throat. "Why are you trying to get me drunk?"

He grins and shrugs, moving away from her to sit his bottle by the side of the pool. He knows she's watching him as he pulls off his shirt and shorts, leaving him in just his boxers. Without acknowledging Rachel at all, he dives into the pool gracefully, using his arms to propel him through the water. When he breaks the surface and wipes his eyes, Rachel is stepping out of her sundress, revealing a powder blue bikini.

Her body is fucking unreal. He's pointedly checking her out, and she blushes, but she's giggling. He can't help but assume that the alcohol is having a major affect on her actions. She never used to be this chilled out.

But then again, he doesn't know her anymore.

He watches as she sits her bottle down next to his and jumps recklessly into the water, not bothering to dive like he did. Smiling to herself, she floats on her back, looking up at the clear sky.

"How did all of this happen?" She asks, and he knows that she's talking about his house, his job, everything.

"I got lucky," Is all he says after a short pause, and she swims over to him, lifting her body up to sit on the edge of the pool, her feet dangling in the cool blue water.

She's thinking of how he used to be the complete opposite of how he is now, with a lack of focus and no interest in an education or a careers. He knows she's thinking about it, because he is too, but neither of them want to mention it, and when he meets her eyes she simply smiles and bites her lip.

She's so fucking sexy. And he's still maybe kind of mad at her for saying the things she said during that argument, but at the same time she's grown into this funny, attractive, confident woman and _fuck_, how is he supposed to be mad at that?

Puck swims towards her, erasing the short distance between them, and stands between her legs, his eyes on her face. She watches him curiously for a second and giggles again, before purposely kicking her foot through the water to splash him. He grins and flicks water over her wet skin to retaliate and she giggles harder, moving to kick at the water again.

He grabs a hold of her legs before she can though, and suddenly no one is laughing anymore. Puck watches his hands travel slowly along her calves, over her knees, and up her thighs before coming to rest just below the line of her bikini bottoms. He looks up then, and she's watching him closely, uncertainly.

He's about to pull away, but she makes the mistake of licking her lips, and he doesn't think about what he's doing, just simply presses his lips to hers.

She gasps as their lips meet and lets out a tiny little squeak into the kiss, and Puck thinks it's just about one of the hottest sounds he's ever heard in his life. She kisses him back then, her arms coming to rest on his muscled shoulders and holy shit, he can't believe he forgot how good of a kisser she was.

She nips gently at his lower lip and he groans softly before moving one hand up into her hair, holding her head firmly in place so she can't move. Rachel doesn't seem to mind and her tongue dances with his in a battle for dominance.

They kiss for a short while the same way they did as teenagers, as though kissing is a form of sex all on its own. It's enthusiastic and familiar, and it ends when Puck grows hard against Rachel's thigh.

Rachel pulls away instantly, her dazed expression quickly turning in to one of complete horror. She stares at Puck with huge eyes, her hand flying to touch her lips.

"What? Rach, what is it?" He asks, because shit, it's not like she can expect him to not be hard after-

"I shouldn't have done that. You shouldn't have kissed me!" She says panicky, and she scrambles to her feet, obviously freaking out.

"What the-"

"Noah, I have a _boyfriend_!"


	2. Chapter 2

When Rachel was eighteen years old, she was the first person in her group of friends to leave Lima. She left quickly, eagerly, and never looked back from the second she stepped foot in New York City. New York had always been her happy place, and Lima had always been nothing but terrible to her. And because her dads knew that they'd never again be able to pull Rachel away from the bright lights of Manhattan, they'd splurged and bought her a small apartment near her college campus, as opposed to having her live in student accommodation. It was a good decision, and Rachel had never felt more at home than in her little apartment above a quaint little bakery.

Although Rachel kept in contact with some old friends from glee club through regular phone calls and emails, she never once returned to the town she grew up in. If anyone wanted to see her, she'd insist that they visit the city, that they take her perfectly made-up but small guest room. She never wanted to return to the little town in Ohio, and the people who knew her well enough understood that. However, during her first year away from home, there was one singular reason that sometimes made her long to visit, and that reason was Noah Puckerman.

Breaking up with him had been a total disaster, and she'd felt guilty for months afterwards. How could she not? Every time she remembered it, all she could picture was the expression on Noah's face, changing from shocked to angry, with that little flash of hurt in between, the one that had vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. She'd wanted to visit home, call him, anything to check up on him, because despite the fact that she'd broken up with him, she still cared. She cared too much about him and his future, their future together even, and she was getting little in return. So what other choice did she have?

It had taken a surprising amount of strength on her behalf, but she resisted the urge to contact him. Break ups are rarely easy, and theirs was no exception. She'd missed him, of course she had, but she learned to move on. She'd had her career to think about, the one that she'd worked towards her entire life.

College had been amazing. Rachel, although she'd previously been the kind of girl who had major difficulties when it came to making friends, had fit in so easily. Her classes were filled with people just like her (although maybe a little less talented). They shared the same interests and passion for music, and within her first week she'd made friends with two girls who went on to become her very best friends throughout her time in New York (with the exception of Kurt, of course, who was studying at a different college in the city).

To help her dads fund her studies, Rachel got a part-time job in a family restaurant and earned the most tips because of her smile and her enthusiasm. Because of her job, her studies, and her constant stream of auditioning, Rachel was the busiest she'd ever been, and she'd loved almost every second of it.

The one thing that had taken Rachel by surprise was how difficult it was to get noticed in the city. Of course, she knew she'd be in the same boat as thousands of other girls who shared the same dreams, although she'd always been firm in her belief that _she'd_ be the most talented of all of them. Maybe this was the case, but no one seemed to want to take that chance, and after over a hundred auditions where she'd earned only five chorus parts and three roles as an understudy, she'd really started to believe the various directors when they told her she "didn't have the right look", or - much more bluntly – that she wasn't pretty enough.

The constant rejection hit Rachel hard, and for a while when she was twenty-one, she broke down completely. Extremely low on money and self-confidence (her job didn't exactly pay her a fortune), she started eating less - despite the fact that she was already thin. She saving every single spare penny, and she began looking into rhinoplasty again, even though she'd already dismissed the option once when she was seventeen. Even the idea of a boob job had crossed her mind once or twice, and it was Kurt who finally managed to talk some sense into her once he'd realized what was going on. She remembers the moment clearly – he'd stormed into her bedroom one morning with a buttery croissant, a full fat strawberry smoothie and a box of candy, demanding that she eat them. The two had ended up spending the entire day snuggled up under Rachel's blankets talking, crying, and looking through various picture albums where Kurt would point out how beautiful she looked in every single photograph.

Three months after she reached her lowest point, she managed to score an understudy role as Rizzo in an off-off Broadway production of Grease. She'd tried not to act too happy when the original actress (the director's niece) was fired during the second week of rehearsals, after arguing with her uncle non-stop over his ideas, but Rachel couldn't help the huge smile that spread out over her face after she had a rough run through of the dialogue and her big solo, and noticed the director staring at her with an expression of complete awe on his face after her performance.

"Rachel," He'd choked out, and she'd tried not to smile at him too smugly. "That was... I should've..."

He shook his head in disbelief and moved to kiss her on both cheeks, and she'd flushed with pleasure and relief, and above all, pride. She'd been thrilled for the rest of the day, even though she'd went on to spend four excruciating hours working on direction and blocking.

The reviews for the show had been good. The reviews for Rachel herself had been _outstanding_. She had credits to her name now, and it was because of those that she landed the lead role in an off-Broadway production of Beauty and the Beast. It had been one of the best experiences of her life, much more professional than Grease, though she'd always think of her first proper show fondly and nostalgically. She played Belle for almost a year to amazing reviews, and because she was quickly climbing up the ladder, more and more people were beginning to be interested in her work. After her run in Beauty and the Beast had come to an end, she didn't allow herself any breaks. Always afraid that her newly-discovered stardom would begin to fade, she dived into more auditions and charmed her way into the leading role of Maria in West Side Story on Broadway. _Actual Broadway_.

When she got the call, she'd been at an elegant restaurant with Kurt and his boyfriend, and she'd promptly burst into tears at the table, causing everyone in the room to look at her. Kurt had immediately rushed to her side, wiping away her tears until she'd been able to speak in between her deep, heaving sobs.

"I'm on _Broadway_!" She'd wailed dramatically, and Kurt had started crying too because he'd known first-hand how much she'd struggled. Kurt's boyfriend Henry had laughed at the pair, and the obvious tourists in the restaurant had started applauding enthusiastically, whilst the New Yorkers simply went straight back to eating.

She remembers Kurt ordering bottle upon bottle of alcohol, and she'd stumbled home drunk on champagne and happiness. She'd navigated her way through the streets of New York, arms linked through Kurt and Henry's, all the while singing every Barbra Streisand song she knew (all of them) at the top of her lungs.

Her run as Maria had lasted a year, and it had been the best year of her life. So many of her dreams had come true. The city had been plastered with posters of her face, advertising the show, and her dads had insisted on taking her picture by every single one when they came to visit. She'd demanded that everyone she knew bought copies of the soundtrack, and reserved her friends and family front-row seats on opening night. She threw herself completely into rehearsals and fell in love with not only the show, but her leading man too. She and Robert, although they never officially dated, frequently got together in Rachel's apartment after an especially-stressful show, or after they'd shared a few drinks. She supposes that he'd been her friend with benefits, even though she had always despised that term. She'd have loved for him to have been more than just an occasional sex partner, but Robert was somewhat of a ladies man, and when he actually fell into a relationship with a girl who wasn't her after seventeen months of working with him, she decided it was time to leave the show and leave Robert behind her. She wasn't worried about her other options – she now had an agent who assured her regularly that there were offers coming in for her every day. Still, she'd loved her character and she'd loved Robert, and she cried hard at the end of her final performance for many different reasons.

At twenty-five, she landed her dream role as Elphaba in Wicked. She'd never worked harder on any role, simply because she knew that she had so much to live up to. She distinctly remembers fretting to Kurt one night after rehearsal as she soothed her blistered feet in a basin of warm, bubbly water "_how on earth am I supposed to compare to Idina?_ Idina_!"_ However, despite all of her worrying, her focus and hard-work paid off, and it was proven when the New York Times described her as "the best Elphaba that the Gershwin stage has seen in a long, long time" after her opening night.

She lived, slept and breathed Elphaba for two years, and it was worth every second. In those two years she won her Tony Award, the item she now treasures more than life itself. Also, she fell in love with thirty-six year old Nathan, a critic for one of the more prestigious entertainment magazines in the city. Unlike her relationship with Robert, Nathan actually fell in love with her too, and they're still together now, in a calm and sophisticated relationship. He takes her to jazz concerts and expensive bakeries for lunch, and he's the kind of boyfriend that she'd always secretly wanted. Classy and mature.

And now, at twenty-eight years old, Rachel finds herself wanting to take a step back from the stage and explore other options, before time passes and a fresh new wave of talent hits the industry. She worries, much more than she'd like to admit, about being out of a job, being unable to find work. She knows how difficult it can be. After all, she was once that person living on cheap instant-meals and candlelight for a while, right out of college and still only landing chorus roles. The only person who ever knew how bad it got was Kurt, and that was only because he caught her by surprise one night by spontaneously showing up at her place. She didn't tell anyone else, and made Kurt swore he wouldn't either. She refuses to be seen as a failure, and she just _can't_ experience that feeling of desperation ever again. It's why she's decided to slowly build up a film and TV career alongside her stage one. More credits mean more opportunities, and that means less chance of ever going back to worrying about how she's going to pay rent (even though she has plenty of money in her bank account so that she doesn't have to worry about that for a long, long time). She needs to be ready, be prepared for the absolute worst, which is where this movie comes in.

Also, she thinks she'd make a really good film star. And she can't imagine a better on-screen debut than with the role she auditioned for earlier today – a sassy, sexy, scary serial killer. She could be amazing at that role, she just knows it. She only hopes that Ben, Noah and the others know that too.

She doesn't know why she let Noah kiss her. She doesn't know what to say to him as he looks up at her now, his eyes searching her face intently. He's always been very good at that. It flusters her now just like it used to – she always felt that he was looking deep inside her and seeing things that no one else ever saw, even if it does sound ridiculously clichéd.

"You have a boyfriend," He repeats her words, and she bites her lip, nodding her head. He narrows his eyes and lifts himself up out of the pool so that he's standing beside her. She can see the outline of his erection through his boxers and she flushes, looking away from him. She's dripping water everywhere. They both are.

"So what the fuck was that?" He asks angrily, stepping over to the patio and grabbing the towels he brought out earlier. He practically shoves one into Rachel's hands and she glares at him as she takes it, before quickly toweling the ends of her hair dry.

"You show up out of nowhere after ten years, audition for my movie, we have a few drinks, and then you let me kiss you? You don't think you should've mentioned your boyfriend earlier?"

"Please don't start, Noah," Rachel says, her voice firm and in control. "It's been a lovely evening. Let's not ruin it. I just-"

"You already ruined it," He replies, eyes dark. He picks up her dress and throws it to her, and she only_ just_ manages to catch it before it lands in the pool.

"Please don't make this worse than it already is," Rachel says pleadingly, because she honestly thinks she's about to start crying, and she can't break down in front of him. Her head is a little cloudy from the drinks she's had, and she's just_ so mad_ at herself for spacing out, for forgetting everything except the way Noah's rough hands felt on her skin. "I don't know what I was thinking, I just-"

He rolls his eyes and she feels him watching her as she dries the bikini as best as she can with the towel before slipping into her dress, each movement clumsy and awkward.

"So what, huh? You see me and everything comes rushing back? All those _feelings_ you once had?" His words are absolutely dripping with sarcasm and she hates it, how awful he's making her feel right now. She feels terrible enough without him adding to the guilt.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," She says, her voice eerily controlled. "It's not like I suspected you were going to kiss me after ten years of no contact whatsoever."

"Why the _fuck_ would I contact you after you ditched my ass?"

"Why do _you_ feel the need to bring up old arguments?"

"Why do you let me feel you up and get all turned on if you're not going to let me fuck you?"

She splutters indignantly. How _dare_ he say such disgusting things after just hours of meeting up again? He's never had any manners whatsoever, and she's suddenly beginning to remember just how frustrating he can be. She sends him an absolutely murderous stare as she ungracefully shoves her feet into her shoes. "You are _such_ a pig, Noah Puckerman! Do _not_ talk to me that way!"

He smirks dryly at her, and she swears she could just slap him right now. "You know what, Princess? How about I just don't talk to you at all?"

"Fine!" Furious, Rachel throws her towel in his direction, and although it hits him squarely in the chest, it has no impact whatsoever. He raises his eyebrows and she huffs angrily, before spinning around and heading back into the house. She accidentally kicks over a bottle of beer on her way to the door, but she makes no movement to clean it up.

She hates that he lives so far away from where her hotel is – but she's got far too much pride to ask him for a ride back to the city. She saw a bus stop at the bottom of the hill leading up to his house, and that will just have to do.

… … …

Puck curses to himself as he dumps the beer bottles in the trash and shoves the towels in the laundry basket. That little display back there got way too out of control, and he's so angry about it that he accidentally knocks a bunch of stuff over as he storms through the house, forcefully navigating his way through the maze of cardboard boxes. He just can't wrap his head around what happened, and why the fuck he's so mad right now. She made a mistake, yeah, but it's not too big of a deal, and he knows that. She was like, intoxicated or whatever. So why the fuck is he so pissed about it? He _knows_ he acted like a total douche, but apparently he finds it really easy to get angry at Rachel, and he fucking hates that she got such a reaction out of him. It shows that he legit cares about some shit, and he _doesn't_, okay? The whole day has just been fucking insane. It caught him off guard, or something.

Okay, so maybe he cares a little bit, but he sure as hell doesn't want _her_ to know that.

It probably all comes down to their history together with all the unresolved issues, but he sure as fuck isn't going to bring that up again.

Jesus _Christ_. He knew that inviting her back to his place was a bad idea. But she'd looked so fucking happy today, and she'd always had this goddamn power over his pathetic ass.

Still, he shouldn't have let her leave by herself, even if he was a total jackass, and she was acting like a complete bitch. Shit.

… … …

The first thing Rachel does when she gets back into her hotel room is have a shower. She feels gross, not only because of the sweat and chlorine from Noah's pool, but from the guilt, anger, and alcohol that's surging through her body. She definitely sobered up on the bus ride home, but the shower still helps her to feel better, and she only cries a little bit as the warm water runs over her smooth skin.

She feels so out of place right now. It's only been two days, but she misses the loudness and familiarity of New York. Granted, Los Angeles isn't exactly quiet, but it's doesn't sound anything like home. Maybe this whole idea was a mistake. Maybe she should skip the callback and try a different movie. Maybe she should just go back to New York, and try out for a role in the next big Broadway musical. She just doesn't want to deal with any more scenes like the one she and Noah had today. She doesn't think she can.  
>And then, as quickly as the feeling appeared, it's gone, replaced with annoyance at herself for letting one stupid boy make her doubt herself and her decisions. Sighing loudly, she quickly towel dries her naked body and pulls on her favorite nightgown, hating the way that Noah has always managed to get into her head and make her question things. She hasn't seen him in almost ten years and he still has that effect on her. How does he do it?<p>

Rachel looks at her phone, suddenly filled with longing to talk to Nathan, to hear his voice. Suddenly feeling tired and hungry, Rachel climbs onto the bed and crosses her legs, calling room service quickly to order a sandwich. There's a text from her agent, letting her know the details of her callback audition in four days, and she reads it three times, biting her lip nervously before she dials her boyfriend's number.

He answers on the second ring.

"Hey, darling."

"Nate," Rachel answers, the corners of her lips turning upwards in a small smile. "I miss you."

Nathan laughs fondly through the phone. "Rachel, it's only been two days. But nevertheless I miss you too. Quite a lot, actually. How is California?"

"It's different. I like it."

"More than New York?"

"Of course not! Although I do quite like how you aren't really shoved along the sidewalk here. There aren't as many crowds."

Nathan laughs again, and the sound comforts Rachel. She leans back into the mountain of pillows and closes her eyes.

"How did your audition go?"

"It was... I got a callback."

"Rachel, that's amazing! I'm proud of you sweetheart."

"Thank you. It just means that I'll be in LA for a little while longer."

"But it will be worth it, right? If you get the part?"

She murmurs an agreement and grabs a spare pillow, hugging it to her chest. "Yes. But I wish you could've flown out with me until the audition process was over."

Nathan sighs, and she knows he wishes he was there too. "I know, darling. I want that as much as you do. But I have meetings and concerts lined up for the next few weeks, you know that. I have deadlines."

"I know, I know." She smiles a little. "I think you'd like it here."

"LA? Not a chance, Rachel. Too laid-back for my taste. I thought you'd be the same," He chuckles and she giggles alongside him, knowing that he's right.

"Sometimes it's nice to relax," She defends herself playfully, and there's a sudden knock on the door. Room service. She pulls a face. "I need to go. I need food and then sleep."

"You haven't eaten yet? Rachel, it's late."

"I just... lost track of time. Don't worry, I'm fine." She climbs from the bed and makes her way to the door. "Goodnight, Nate. I love you."

"Love you too, my darling. Sweet dreams."

… … …

When Rachel goes to the studio for her callback, she's tense. How could she not be? But everyone greets her warmly, and she meets Leon Carter, the smoldering well-known actor who has fangirls following his every move, despite the fact that he's happily married to a gorgeous supermodel. He's also the movie's male lead, and he's funny and charming, and she feels completely welcome.

Noah, however, doesn't say a word to her. Actually, she looks rather bored, and it unnerves her. What if he puts in a bad word and she doesn't get the part? No, he's not that person. Or is he? She doesn't know him anymore.

She tries to stop her eyes from flickering towards him as she and his cast members talk about the role and what she'll be doing that day. Noah stays quiet, eyes on his phone the entire time.

"Noah, you're being very rude right now. I don't think you should be texting during the casting session of a movie that _you're_ producing," She scolds suddenly, unable to stop herself. There's a brief silence in which she thinks she's ruined everything, but then everyone's laughing hysterically, and Noah is rolling his eyes but putting his phone away, and Rachel blushes, hiding her face in her hands. She shouldn't have done that. She should _not_ have done that.

"Rachel," Ben grins, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "My God, you're perfect. You're exactly the kind of person we need."

Rachel looks up, biting her lip. Her cheeks are still red. "Really?"

"Confident. Sassy. Fearless. You're brilliant." Nick chimes in with a huge smile in her direction, and she giggles a little. She's always been a sucker for compliments. She watches as Nick turns to Noah, punching him lightly on the shoulder. "She owns you, dude."

"Fuck off," Noah scoffs, glaring at him. "Read the scene, Berry."

"Touchy." Leon teases Noah, and grins as he passes a script to Rachel. Rachel takes it and smiles back at him. "Ready, lovely?"

"Bring it," Rachel replies, and she feels Noah's eyes on her suddenly, like a sixth sense.

_Oh_. She remembers that line.

"You know, I just can't figure you out, Cassie." Leon reads, slipping flawlessly into his character, and Rachel focuses herself, quickly glancing down at her line before looking up at Leon with a breezy, controlled manner. "What are you even doing here?"

"You really think I'm going to tell a _stranger _all of my secrets?" Rachel raises her eyebrow and trails her fingers slowly down Leon's arm. "And I told you already, don't call me Cassie. Don't make me tell you again."

"I wouldn't call us strangers, exactly," Leon smiles cutely, and he pulls Rachel closer to him. She smirks and places one hand on his chest, easily pushing him away from her. Laughing lowly and dryly, she casually takes a step back from him and ignores the feeling of the extra four pairs of eyes on her. It's a small, warm room, but there's really only herself and Leon; Cassandra and Zachary, and those two characters are the only things that matter right now. She throws herself into the audition, and by the end of the scene she knows she's got everyone in the room eating right out of the palm of her hand. It's a good feeling. She feels _powerful_.

The scene ends when Zachary is about to kiss Cassandra, and Leon is so close to her that she can feel his minty breath on her face. She's looking up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, lips parted just slightly, and for some unknown reason, she wants so badly to look at Noah right now, just to judge his reaction.

"_Amazing_," Sarah breathes, when Leon breaks character and pulls away laughing, holding up his hand to give Rachel a high five. She has to stand on her tiptoes to reach him, but she slaps her palm against his, giggles, and turns to face the others. They all look impressed. Noah is wearing that signature look, managing to appear somehow bored and interested at the same time. His eyebrow is raised, and she can tell he's deep in thought.

"Amazing." Nick repeats, and Rachel _knows_ she's got the part. She can just feel it.

… … …

"Rachel Berry," Ben says, leaning back in his chair. "She's got my vote."

There's a murmur of agreement throughout the room, and Puck keeps quiet, because he knows he's just going to lose this argument. It's the final casting meeting for the role of Cassandra, and he just knows that come July when filming starts, he'll be around Rachel for at least four months.

He's totally fucked.

"I liked Katherine Heigl," Puck murmurs bitterly, and Nick scoffs at him.

"Are you serious? Rachel's perfect. All dark eyes and attitude."

"Katherine's taller," He argues for no apparent reason, and Nick looks as though he wants to punch Puck in the face if he talks Ben, Sarah, and Christina into hiring Katherine instead of Rachel. He _knew_ the idiot was nuts for her. Fucking knew it.

"So? We'll put Rachel in heels if that's seriously an issue!"

"Guys," Christina interrupts them, holding up her hand all authoritatively and shit. "Let's look at this objectively. Rachel and Leon had insane amounts of chemistry."

Puck is not jealous, okay? He's _not_. That weird feeling in his stomach is just hunger or something. But he knows Christina's right. It's _Rachel Berry_. She could have chemistry with a goddamn rock.

"Rachel herself shares personality traits with Cassandra," Christina continues to list points, while the others nod their heads like those stupid little bobble-head toys. Puck tries hard not to roll his eyes at everyone. "Leon loves her, she's got the right look, the camera adores her, she's got great acting experience... Not to mention she has quite the fanbase after her roles on Broadway. She's not as well-known as Katherine Heigl, no, but frankly, I think she has the talent to do a better job."

"I agree," Sarah chimes in. "Besides, we'll get credit for casting a movie amateur also. It'll generate some great press for us. Bonus points."

"Puck," Ben says seriously, and Puck looks up at his friend, scowling. "Do you really think that this isn't the role for Rachel?"

Puck sighs, defeated, and gives in to the sucky thought of being around her for weeks on end. He's telling the truth when he answers. "No. I think she'll be awesome."

Ben grins at him, clapping his hands together. The sound echoes through the room. "Then we have an agreement. Fax her agent the paperwork, Rachel's our girl."

… … …

"I got the part!" Rachel's shrieking down the phone to Kurt, and he's shrieking back, and she's glad her cellphone is on speakerphone, because she could _not_ handle his high-pitched screaming straight in her ear.

Her cheeks hurt from smiling.

"I knew you would!" Kurt cries gleefully, and she can hear someone talking in the background. "I knew it! Henry says congratulations!"

"Thank you!" She's laughing giddily, pacing all around her hotel room, too excited to sit still. "This is amazing!"

"I'm your date to the premiere, right?"

"Right! Of course!"

"I'm so happy for you, Rach!"

"I'm happy too! I thought that Noah wouldn't-"

"Oh _hush_, of _course_ he wouldn't blackball you! That silly boy has always had major feelings for you, crazypants."

"Not anymore he doesn't," She says, and she hears Kurt scoff at the other end of the line. She told Kurt everything – she always tells Kurt everything – and the boy has already started coming up with his own theories about what could happen between them.

"Don't start your whining, my dear! You just got cast in a movie! With Leon Carter!" He sidetracks her from her thoughts, and she can't help but let out a little squeal. The words just sound too good to be true.

"We start filming in a couple of months," She tells Kurt, an ear-splitting smile on her face. "They're renting me a little apartment here while we're filming. So we have eight weeks to pack up my furniture and put my life in New York on hold for a little while. Speaking of New York, my flight gets in tomorrow at 10pm, and could you please please _please _be the bestest friend ever, and have some fresh bread and milk waiting for me at my apartment?"

"Sure thing, diva."

Kurt and Rachel talk for a while longer, but she's finding it difficult to really pay attention. Her mind is filled with thoughts of movies and trailers and director's chairs and premiers, and she has butterflies fluttering around in her stomach. It's definitely going to be a lot of work and undoubtedly stressful, but Rachel genuinely can't wait to get started and see if her talent on stage translates to the big screen. She's really only a little nervous about spending time with Noah, especially because they aren't really on the best of terms, but she can't imagine it will be too unbearable. After all, she _is_ a professional and she's never let anything stop her before. This will be no different.

She doesn't think she can wait two whole months.


	3. Chapter 3

The studio provides Rachel with her own little apartment to live in for the five months she'll spend filming the movie. It's cozy and completely furnished, decorated in warm earth tones, and the building itself is quiet and peaceful. It's pretty much the complete opposite of her place in New York, and she finds the change a little unsettling. When she's finished unpacking her clothes and the various little items she brought along with her, she finds herself sitting on the couch, unsure about what to do next. It's only two in the afternoon, and she's alone in a city that's now her home for the next twenty weeks. Ideally, she wants to spend some time with someone, but the only person she really knows here is Noah, and they haven't spoken to each other since that day at his house. After all of that unnecessary drama, she doesn't think that calling the man who hates her is a very good idea.

It was sad, saying goodbye to Nathan, Kurt, and all her friends back in the city. She'd cried at both the little leaving party her friends had thrown in her honor, and also at the airport when her boyfriend and her best friend had come to say goodbye. Nathan had seemed amused at her tears, but Rachel always cries, so it wasn't anything unusual. She'd made both men promise to visit her (though Kurt seemed more excited about the thought of meeting Leon than visiting her in LA), and they'd faithfully reassured her that they'd call her all the time. So she'd gotten on the plane with a watery, nervous smile, and had stepped off the plane to sunlight and excitement. The company had sent a limousine just to pick her up from the airport, which she'd been thrilled about. She's ridden limos before, of course, but it's still a novelty to her, and she loves the feeling of self-importance that comes with riding in one. It means that she's successful.

Right now though, all she feels is restless. Her first read-through isn't until tomorrow at noon, and she has absolutely nothing to do until then, no one to welcome her to Hollywood. Desperate for something to keep her occupied, Rachel walks over to the refrigerator, but sighs when she opens the door to find it completely empty. She could go grocery shopping, she supposes, but the idea doesn't sound very fun. Grumbling quietly to herself, she pulls her Blackberry from her pocket, and dials Kurt number. He answers almost immediately, his voice bright and enthusiastic.

"Hey, diva! How's Hollywood?"

"Boring," Rachel whines childishly, and she frowns when she hears him bark out an amused laugh.

"Rachel, you've only been there one day."

"But there's _nothing_ to do!" She sighs as she hears Kurt cluck his tongue disapprovingly, and she collapses onto a kitchen chair. "What?"

"Sweetie, where are you?"

"In my apartment."

"In your apartment _where_?"

She's confused. "In my apartment in Los Angeles?"

"And what is there in Los Angeles?"

"Um, famous people?"

She can tell he's smiling when he answers. "Yes. But no, wrong answer."

"Girls who dress their dogs in obnoxious little outfits?"

"Yes. But no, wrong answer again."

"Smoothie bars and-"

"Rachel, it's not a difficult question! Stores! There are _stores_ in Los Angeles." He sounds exasperated, and she groans sadly.

"Yes, I suppose I _do_ need to do some grocery shopping. The fridge is completely empty, and I could kill for a bagel with cream cheese right now."  
>"Dear lord. Rachel, have all the plastic airheads in LA made you stupid already? I don't mean grocery stores! I'm talking about Rodeo Drive!"<p>

"_Oh_!That _does_ sound fun!" Rachel ignores the insult and giggles instead, jumping up from the chair, suddenly excited.

"Exactly. And I think you deserve to spoil yourself a little." Kurt is definitely grinning on the other end of the phone. She vaguely hears someone say his name in the background, but she's only half listening now. Her mind has suddenly been consumed with thoughts of gorgeous new summer dresses, maybe even a pair of Christian Louboutin heels...

"I have to run, diva. My expertise is needed yet again."

"When is it not?" She smiles into the phone, heading into her bedroom and looking for her flats. "Thanks, Kurt."

"No problem, sweetie! Have fun, okay? And if you feel the need to buy your bestest friend a sweater from Gucci, then he'd be perfectly okay with that."

Rachel laughs. "Goodbye, Kurt."

"Love you!" The line goes dead, and Rachel puts her phone away with an amused little smile. Fifteen minutes later, she's in a cab on her way to one of the most famous streets in the world, her debit card waiting impatiently in her pocket, ready to be used.

… … …

Puck spends the day before the first read-through having breakfast at this little cafe by the beach, surfing (turns out he's actually pretty decent at it), and later going out for a drink with this hot upcoming actress. She mainly wants to be seen with him for publicity reasons, but whatever. They end up back at her apartment anyway, and she gives him a striptease and then an amazing blow job, so yeah, he's not gonna complain.

He drives back to his place relaxed and excited for the work ahead of him. He loves it, seeing the thing that everyone works so hard on coming together right in front of his eyes. It's the best feeling, knowing that your hard work and creativity is actually paying off, and although filming won't officially begin for another week, he can't wait to get started. The script is amazing – creepy, but still sexy and funny, and he's happy with the cast, though he doesn't want to admit it.

Tomorrow he'll see Rachel, have to sit at the same table with her as she reads over her lines. The thought of even seeing her annoys him a little, makes him want to have a conversation that he doesn't feel ready for, and he sighs as he steps into the shower. Whatever. He'll just have to find a way to deal with it.

… … …

Rachel, to the surprise of pretty much no-one, is the first cast member to arrive for the read-through. Puck, Ben, Nick, the script-writer Joanne, and a few other members of the crew, have all been there for an hour already, making some final decisions about settings and working on the production schedule itself, but the energy in the room immediately triples as Rachel practically skips through the door. She's wearing a huge smile and a ridiculously long, floaty dress. Puck rolls his eyes as everyone greets her warmly.

"Good afternoon!" She chirps way too brightly, dropping her bag onto the seat reserved for her.

"Rachel, it's great to see you," Ben says, getting to his feet and kissing her on the cheek. "How are you?"

"I'm wonderful, Ben, thank you. How about you?" She squeezes his hand excitedly and Puck tries not to throw up, as he watches her from his seat with narrowed eyes. How is she so goddamn happy all the time? It's not freaking normal.

"I'm good! Let me introduce you to everyone. This is Paul, he's our location-"

"Oh, no, wait," Rachel says, and hurriedly dives through her bag until she pulls out a roll of "Hello, my name is..." stickers and a purple marker. Everyone laughs and she smiles and flushes pink. "I just have so many names to remember and I figured this would make it easier, so if you wouldn't mind, I'd love for you all to wear one of these stickers for me!"

And because everyone's pretty much in love with her already, his stupid co-workers grab a sticker and begin filling them in. Puck scoffs but takes one anyway as they're passed around, and quickly scrawls in his details before sticking it to his chest. Rachel walks around the table with Ben, smiling and chatting and shaking everyone's hand, and when she reaches him she sighs at what he's written on his name tag.

"Hello, my name is Puck, captain of awesome," She reads out loud, and it earns a laugh from rest of the table. Puck smirks.

"Yup," He pops his 'p', and remains sitting, looking up at Rachel. She shakes her head slightly, in a disapproving manner.

"How are you, Noah?"

"M'good." He doesn't ask how she is and she doesn't offer. Without saying another word, Rachel moves on to hug Nick, who practically worships the ground Rachel walks on, and looks like he's about to pass out because she's actually touching him. Idiot. Puck notices Ben shooting him a look out of the corner of his eye but ignores it, and simply sends one of the assistants to get him some Coke.

… … …

An hour and a half into the read-through of the script, Rachel is ready to kill Noah. Of course, she keeps perfectly in character, and smiles brightly when she isn't, but there's a little part of her that wonders if she can maybe get away with kicking him hard under the table.

He keeps criticizing her. It's only the read-through, where Joanne, Ben, and the producers find out which lines work and which ones don't, and it definitely isn't where Noah should be commenting on her expression. He does it in a way that no one really questions him, no one can see that he's trying to be annoying on purpose. He's extremely sly about it, and it frustrates her.

"Scene opens with Cassandra and Leon sitting across from each other. Cassandra is sipping coffee and Leon is rubbing his temples. Cut to close-up of Cassandra sliding her foot slowly up and down Leon's leg. Back to medium shot of the two of them. Leon looks tortured, Cassandra is calm," Nick narrates the scene, and Rachel breathes out quietly, channeling her character.

"I can't believe this. I can't believe you," Leon speaks as Zachary, a nervous edge to his voice. Rachel glances at him. "You're going to be locked up. _Shit_, Cassandra!"

"Only if you tell," Rachel says with a smirk, a hint of intimidation in her voice. "You won't tell Zac, will you?"

"Hold on," Noah cuts in yet again, and Rachel tries not to glare at him. Instead she puts on her most interested expression and looks over at the man with a tight smile.

"Yes, Noah?"

Noah smiles pleasantly at her, but she knows him well enough to know he's not being sincere.

"Shouldn't we make that line a little more sexy?" He says easily, talking to no one in particular. He gestures to the script in front of him. "I mean, Cassandra knows Zac is infatuated with her, or whatever. Shouldn't she work that to her advantage instead of going with the usual intimidation shit?"

Joanne nods slowly and Ben claps his hands together. "I like that. Rachel, can you read the line more seductively?

"Sure thing," She flashes a bright smile at them and tosses her hair back over her shoulder as she turns to Leon. Her voice is low and smooth when she next speaks, and out of the corner of her eye, she sees Nick nodding his head. "Only if you tell. You won't tell Zac, wi-"

"Too much," Noah interrupts, and Rachel huffs under her breath. "Don't be too obvious, Rachel."

Rachel nods and repeats the line once more, her voice confident and slightly breathy. She doesn't emphasize the seductive tone, and when Leon moves on to his next line without any interruptions from Noah, she knows that she nailed it. Thank goodness.

… … …

He's yawning as he leaves the table, raising his arms and stretching hugely. He's been in the room for close to five hours and Puck feels like he's been pretty damn productive today. The read-through went well, he and Nick made some pretty important decisions earlier, and he feels like he's earned the right to maybe grab a pizza on the way home and watch a game. Or maybe he'll go for a run down the beach or something – he kind of loves the way the hot chicks in bikinis openly check him out as he jogs past. He smirks at the thought, shoving his iPhone in his pocket as he heads for the door.

"Noah, wait!" A familiar voice calls from behind him, and he stops reluctantly to let Rachel catch up. She falls into step beside him as they make their way down the hallway to the exit.

"Yeah?" He says impatiently, and Rachel glares , stepping in front and stopping him in his tracks.

"Are you going to be that annoying every day for the next five months?" She says in annoyance, and Puck grins, weirdly proud of the way he's managed to get on her nerves.

"Wasn't being annoying. Just making sure my movie's as good as it can be," He replies self-righteously, and he puts his hands on her bare shoulders, guiding her to the side of the corridor so that he can start walking again. He hears Rachel splutter behind him and the squeaking of her flip flops as she hurries to catch up with him.

"You didn't stop anybody else!" She says angrily, and he resists the urge to laugh. She's never taken constructive criticism well, he remembers that from ten years ago. "Out of all the actors in that room, you only felt the urge to criticize_ me_ every five minutes!"

He turns to look at her as he walks, sending her a sympathetic smile. "Well, maybe you need a little more work to improve on your skills, darlin'."

Puck's totally lying, of course. She was fine today, and most of his comments weren't even necessary, but whatever. It's fun, getting under her skin.

He can't contain his amusement when he hears a shocked gasp from behind him, and he barks out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I'll have you know, _Noah Puckerman_, that I'm _extraordinarily_ talented, and even Nick told me I wasn't to listen to a word you said, that I did a wonderful job."

"That's only because Nick wants to fuck you," He calls over his shoulder, and Rachel lets out an audible squeak.

"He most certainly does not!" She protests, her hurried steps struggling to keep up with his long strides. "And I must insist that you refrain from using that language around me, Noah. It's repulsive."

"Deal with it, Berry." He rolls his eyes. It's like she thinks she's better than him, just because she doesn't swear and is a hundred times more talented. And yeah, okay, so maybe there's a little part of his brain telling him that Rachel isn't like that at all, but whatever. "It's _my_ movie set, I can swear if I want. Fuck. Shit. Ass. Dick."

"You are _such_ a child," She says disgustedly. "And it's my movie set too!"

"Nope," He pops his 'p' and walks faster, eager to get away from her. She's really starting to piss him off and he doesn't want to argue with her. He just wants pizza. They've reached the exit now, and he doesn't bother holding the door open for her, simply because he doesn't want to.

"S'_my_ movie set. You just work on it."

"Noah, that is completely-"

He interrupts her as he spots his car, lifting up his hand in a wave, not even bothering turning to look at the girl. "Bye, Rachel."

He doesn't wait for a reply, simply keeps walking, knowing all too well that she _hates_ being ignored like that.

… … …

Rachel is absolutely furious when she gets back to her little apartment, and the first thing she does is kick off her flip flops and pour herself a glass of wine. She wants to call Nathan, but she _needs_ to talk to Kurt first, _needs_ to rant about how rude Noah acted today.

He takes a while to pick up, and when he finally does, Rachel explodes before the man can even say a word in greeting.

"Kurt! You will never believe what happened today! Actually, you probably _will_ believe it because he's always been a complete...complete _asshole_, and that shows you just how angry I am because I very rarely use that word!"

"Hello, Rachel." Kurt says brightly, and Rachel sighs into the phone.

"Hi."

"Let me guess. You're talking about the _very _attractive, movie-producing womanizer you once dated?"

"He is _not _attractive! He's a jerk!"

"Oh come on, Rachel. He's totally gorgeous."

"Only a little bit." She's almost growling, and not even the sound of Kurt's tinkling laugh through the phone can make her smile. "Would you stop? I want to tell you how mean he is."

He giggles a little, and she throws herself onto her bed with a frustrated sigh. "Okay, sweetie. How mean is Noah Puckerman?"

The words burst from her mouth quickly and furiously. "_So_ mean! He criticized my abilities as an actress, can you believe it? He stopped me at every second line and told me I was saying it wrong, like there's absolutely no room for my interpretation! What does _he_ know about acting, anyway? _Nothing!_ We all saw Run Joey Run back in high school, didn't we? But the most enraging part is that he didn't fault anyone else! He was picking on me, Kurt, just to be mean! And I tried to talk to him afterwards, but he completely brushed me off! He pretty much told me that it was his movie, and I have to do as he says!"

She takes a deep, unsteady breath, and closes her eyes. There's no reply.

"Kurt?"

"Are you finished?" She can't be sure, but he sounds like he's smiling.

"Yes."

"He's getting under your skin," Kurt says instantly. "Stop letting him."

Rachel hates that, and she frowns, scrambling to sit up against her pillows. She tucks the phone between her neck and her ear and she plays with her dress as she talks, tracing the intricate floral design on the skirt with her index finger. "I'm not letting him do anything! He's just... He's just not very nice! You'd be mad too."

"Rachel, he's obviously trying to get you to feel something. The more you react, the more he'll try. Dear lord, you two are like a pair of kindergartners!"

Rachel thinks about that for a second, and she's suddenly embarrassed at the way she acted, calling Kurt and whining like a child. She sighs heavily and plays with her fingers. "Urgh. You're right, aren't you?"

"I'm always right," He says importantly, and Rachel giggles. "I'm merely stating that if you let Puck torment you the entire time you're in LA, then you're not going to have very much fun. You love this character Rachel, and Puck is good at what he does, you know that. So don't turn this into a childish game of who can annoy the other most, and instead focus on the movie."

"You're right, you're right," She agrees grumpily, though she's smiling a little. "I'm sorry for calling you to complain."

"Don't be! I want to know all the gossip! How was Leon today?"

"Kurt, you do know he's married and isn't gay, right?"

"Minor problems," Kurt says breezily. "I'll make him love me."

She can hear Henry's protests in the background and Rachel laughs.

"Go reassure your boyfriend," She orders, and she gets off the bed and pads quietly through to the living room. "I'm going to make dinner and call Nate."

"Okay, sweetie. Have a nice night."

"You too!"  
>She hangs up and stares at the phone, pursing her lips slightly. Kurt's pep-talk definitely motivated her, and she immediately makes a promise to herself to not stoop to Noah's level. He's immature and pathetic, and she doesn't want to be associated with that childish behavior during the filming of her first movie. If he's going to act like that for the entire time, then she'll just stay out of his way unless it's completely necessary. This film industry is a competitive one, and she needs to be the best, needs to prove to everyone that she's made for this. She doesn't have time to worry about Noah.<p>

… … …

Puck works out today's frustration by fucking this gorgeous Latina he met whilst he was running on the beach. Together they jog back to his house for a drink, and his lips are on hers the second she's through the door. She's naked before they reach his bedroom, and he gets her off twice before they even reach the bed. He skillfully manages to get her to leave afterwards, by telling her he has to get up early for meetings and shit the following morning, and she doesn't argue. Instead, she writes her number down on a piece of paper and leaves it on the table in a hall with a wink as she slips out of the front door, though Puck throws it away pretty much the second the door closes. The chick seemed pretty interested in dating him or whatever, but he's supposed to be seeing that actress, Elle, so he doesn't want the stressful nightmare that comes with bad publicity. Besides, he hates the whole dating shit. It's pointless, really.

He doesn't even feel bad about putting the number in the trash. Why should he? He's young, sexy, successful and rich, and it would almost be a crime to not take advantage of that. Women want him because it's no secret that he's a good fuck, and he aims to please those women. Why stick with the one chick when there's thousands of others out there?

… … …

Rachel dreams about Noah, and she hates herself for it. The dream isn't exactly appropriate, and she tries hard to forget about it when she wakes up sweaty and turned on. She feels guilty too, because she knows that she should be having these dreams about Nate, or even Taye Diggs, who's she's had a crush on since she was a teenager. Not Noah Puckerman, her ex-boyfriend, and the man who apparently wants to torture her.

Rachel hasn't told Nathan that Noah is her high-school ex. He wouldn't like the fact that she's working on a movie with an old flame one little bit, and she hates it when he's mad at her. Nibbling anxiously on her lower lip, she turns to look at the clock next to her bed, frowning slightly.

It's only 6am, and she doesn't have to get up for a costume fitting for another two hours. Calculating quickly in her head, she realizes that it's 9am in New York, and to settle her guilt a little, she sends a quick text to Nate, wishing him a wonderful day. He texts back almost instantly with 'You too. I love you. xxx', and she smiles a little, sitting her phone back on her nightstand and falling into a light sleep.

… … …

When Puck sees Rachel on the movie set the following week, she pretty much basically ignores him, and it bugs him a little, though he hates to admit it. He can't even figure out why he cares so much, and it pisses him off. He's used to not caring about shit, and then she comes along and actually makes him think about stuff. It's just weird. Whatever.

… … …

Later that day, Ben asks Puck to give the stylist the sheets with the costume outlines he was looking over. Puck does him the favor, simply because he'd totally rather flirt with the chicks in the make-up trailer as opposed to arguing with the lighting guy.

They're thrilled to see him, and he knows it. So he high-fives Kelly, and winks at Lily, and they blush and giggle and thank him as he hands them the sketches.

It's then he notices Rachel sitting in front of a mirror, watching their interactions closely through the reflection. His eyes meet hers and she looks away, back to her fingernails, which are painted deep red obviously to go with the whole Film Noir theme.

She's not in her first costume yet, just sitting in a white tank top and light purple shorts, her hair damp and wavy down her back. She looks hot, is the first thing he thinks, and he moves to stand beside her, leaning against the counter and picking up some silver thing that looks kinda like a pair of scissors but not really. He turns it over in his hands, examining it closely. Rachel looks up at him.

"You look hot," He tells her and she scoffs.

"Is everything about appearances to you?" She retorts easily, and he leers at her, throwing the thing up in the air and catching it casually.

"Not everything, but it totally helps," He replies, and he's just being honest, but she sighs and holds out her hand bossily. He really fucking hates her holier-than-thou attitude.

"You're a pig. Can I have the eyelash curler back?"

"Why you gotta hurt me like that, baby?" He says, and he hears one of the girls giggle behind him. He grins, enjoying the fact that they find him funny.

Rachel, on the other hand, doesn't look amused.

"Don't call me that. And give me it back."

"What's wrong with baby?"

"It's degrading. Noah, stop being annoying."

He throws the eyelash curler up in the air again and grabs it just before it falls into Rachel's palm. She groans impatiently, and Puck winks at her.

"Annoying? Me?"

"Urgh, go away."

"Best comeback ever."

She sends him a murderous look and he laughs, tossing the thing up in the air once more, but not bothering to catch it this time. She catches it perfectly without her eyes ever leaving his, and she continues to glare at him like she wants to burn a hole straight through his body. "Go. Away."

"You go away," He replies with his most charming grin, and he swears, she fucking growls, or something. S'pretty sexy, actually. He's not gonna lie.

"Noah!"  
>"Alright, fuck, m'going," He holds up his hands in surrender, though leans directly over her and grabs a cookie from the snack tray in front of her before leaving. He catches the ssmell of her perfume, and she smells fucking amazing. He'd totally stay there for a few seconds longer, just to inhale the scent, but she pushes at his chest, and he laughs at her complete lack of strength before leaving the trailer.<p>

He might actually enjoy it, working with her. Or against her, really. He just likes to annoy the girl. She spends far too much time with her head up her own ass, and he thinks it's up to him to fix that.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** _Hi! First of all, I'd just like to apologize that it's taken me so long to update! Real-life got in the way, and I had to house-sit for my grandma, then I had to travel to England for Glee Live, and _then_ I wasn't feeling great, and it's really just a bunch of excuses, but I'm sorry and I'll try to make sure it doesn't happen again. Secondly, thank you so so so much for all the support with this story. The amount of people who have added it to their story alerts is just crazy, and I'm so glad that you're enjoying it! So I'll stop now so that you can read, and I'd love it if you could let me know what you think. Thanks again! :) _

* * *

><p>Even though his job is mostly pretty fun, there are times when it can be as stressful as fuck, and this is one of those times. Everything just seems to be going wrong, and Puck and Nick have found themselves at a little diner near the studio for a much-needed break. Seriously, Puck is <em>this close<em> to punching someone in the face. On set, a group of idiot assistants managed to break a bunch of expensive lights, and one of Leon's costumes had apparently vanished into thin air or some shit. Plus, one of the stylist chicks is off sick and the make-up trailer is pretty a fucking cloud of that powder stuff and hairspray. In all honestly, everyone is running around fucking batshit crazy, and Puck needed to get away for a bit. It's times like these that he's glad he's mainly a producer, as opposed to the director or some shit. Yeah, he's got a hell of a lot of work to do, but he isn't required on the set a lot of the time, and he loves that. Sure, sometimes he likes to hang out there, see what's going on and get in on the action, but on crazy days like this one he'd rather stay the fuck away.

It sucks though, that on the way to the diner, Nick got a call from some executives from the studio. They obviously didn't call about good news though, because it's ten minutes later and Nick is still on the phone, and Puck's been watching the frown line on the dude's forehead grow deeper by the second.

A pretty redhead brings them coffee, and Puck winks a thank you before she turns to walk away. She blushes and giggles, and he grins at her before turning back to Nick, watching him as he finally ends the call and shoves the phone in his pocket.

"What's going on?" Puck asks, and seriously, the amount of shit that's happening today is fucking crazy.

"It's not good," Nick answers uneasily, and he sighs loudly, attracting the attention of a young family sitting at a table near them. Puck raises an eyebrow.

"Shoot."

"There's no interest in the film. Zero. No buzz at all."

Puck groans and leans back in his chair. "Shit. None?"

"None," Nick confirms with a nod of his head. "Even Perez Hilton, who's fucking in _love_ with you and Leon, says that it sounds like something that's been done a thousand times before. He called it a snooze-fest."

"Shit."

"The guys at New Line are pissed with us for choosing an unknown to write the script."

Puck runs a hand over his head, annoyed. "The script is fucking brilliant."  
>"Yeah, we know that, but they don't. We just gotta wait until it comes out and then people will see for themselves." Nick sounds uncertain, and Puck shakes his head.<p>

"Nah. No one will go see it if we don't create a buzz beforehand, stupid. What about Leon's crazy fangirls? Those chicks are batshit. The guys over at Paramount pulled in a nice little profit from him last time."

Nick shrugs, picking up his mug of coffee and looking tired. "That's before he got married."

"The fuck has that got to do with anything?"

"His rep's gone down, bro. The fans have lost interest since there's less chance of him sleeping with them, or whatever. They're moving back to Zac Efron. Seriously, don't you read the blogs?"

Puck almost laughs at that, a small smirk spreading out over his face. "No. Those blogs are bullshit."

"Dude, you're in them most of the time. All Perez talks about is how much you sleep around and how awesome your ass is." Nick rolls his eyes and Puck laughs genuinely, a loud bark that carries around the diner.

"S'true though." He says smugly, because even though Perez Hilton or Jared or whoever the fuck was running gossip columns these days were sure as fuck not his type, it's good to know that his ass is still appreciated. Nick leans over and punches him on the shoulder. "Be serious, Puckerman. What the hell are we going to do?"

Puck thinks for a second, leaning back in his chair and taking a long sip of his coffee. "We call Leon and Rachel's publicists. Set up a couple of interviews, tell them to drop hints about the movie, build interest and whatever. We arrange a meeting with the advertisers, help them come up with some campaign thing. Light product placement. Couple of sponsors. I don't want to sell out though. This movie's good enough without that shit."  
>Nick nods, pulling out his phone again. "Let's make some phone calls."<p>

Puck murmurs his agreement, sipping from his mug. "Nothing major though. I want the movie to spread mostly through word of mouth. Let it stand on it's own, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I'll see what I can do."

It's then that a hot as fuck cougar approaches their table, looking flustered and a little nervous. The guys turn to look at her and she smiles a shy-yet-flirty smile, holding out a napkin and a black pen.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but are you Noah Puckerman?"

Puck smirks. He loves the attention, okay? Whatever. He takes the napkin and pen from the woman and quickly signs his name, smiling at her. "Call me Puck, gorgeous."

… … …

The following day, Puck shows up on set, only because he can't be assed making lunch and the craft services table at the studio is always fucking amazing. He's not supposed to be in today, considering he had a meeting earlier in the morning, but whatever. He likes to see how things are going.

Ben's happy to see him, and high fives him as he walks onto the set, made up to look like a little side street in downtown LA. Ben tells him that they're doing a kissing scene today, and Puck rolls his eyes but talks with him for a moment, discussing angles and lighting, and generally approving Ben's ideas. The guy is a great director, and the film's gonna look amazing.

"Can someone go get Rachel and Leon?" Ben calls out. The set is full of people, but everyone looks pretty busy and no assistants reply immediately. Ben frowns, looking around the room as he mutters to Puck. "Seriously, we have like, twenty assistants running around this set and no-one is even here to help me. Fantastic."

Puck laughs, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Dude, most of them only took the job to perv on Leon and Berry, not to help you out."

"Very true. You mind going for me while I help Paul hide the microphones? They're in the shot."

"Sure thing." Puck nods at the guy and heads out to the parking lot, where row upon row of trailers have been set up. Leon's is one of the first and he knocks on the door quickly, pushing it open and calling in.

"You're wanted on set, man."

He hears Leon's voice reply from somewhere in the trailer, and Puck heads out, closing the door behind him. He heads to Rachel's next, and it instantly pisses him off when there's no reply after he knocks. He knocks on the door a little harder, and he sighs impatiently before letting himself in.

He can hear her singing coming from one of the tiny rooms in the trailer, and the sound makes him want to smile a little. Puck hasn't heard her sing in a long, long time, and he forgot how much he loved hearing it. She's singing some song about pocketfuls of sunshine, and he smirks, shaking his head to himself. Totally Rachel.

He opens her mouth to call her name, but before he can even utter a sound, the bathroom door flies open in front of him and Rachel dances out of the room wearing nothing but white cotton panties and a set of wireless headphones.

His eyes instantly travel over the naked body that he's seen a hundred times before, and it somehow manages to look familiar and new at the same time. She still has that tiny little birthmark on her hip, but the curve of her waist has filled out a little bit more, the arch of her back is a little more defined. Her legs are still long and toned, and his mouth waters a little as his eyes fall on the little dip of her ass, where her panties have ridden down just a little bit.

It should be illegal to look that sexy.

He's momentarily speechless as she nods her head in time to the music, her back to him. She sings louder as she reaches the chorus, moving over to where her outfit is hanging up and moving her hips as she walks. It's so fucking sexy that he's instantly half-hard in his pants, and he coughs deliberately in an attempt to get her attention. She doesn't reply and he sighs, calling her name loudly so that she can hear him over the music. She doesn't, and he rolls his eyes, steps towards her, and pulls the headphones away from her ears and letting them go so that they snap back into pace.

Rachel shrieks, jumping in fright before she grabs the dress and holds it to her body in a weak attempt to cover herself. She's in full make-up, all smoky eyes and pink lips, and Puck can only grin at her as she glares at him.

"What on _earth_ do you think you are doing?" She yells, her face flooding with color. With one hand, the other still clutching the clothes to her chest, she pulls the headphones away from her ears. The whole thing pretty funny, Puck's not gonna lie, and he keeps smiling.

"Well, I was gonna tell you that you're needed on set, but now I'm watching you dance all naked," He says innocently, and he isn't sure if Rachel's face is red with embarrassment or anger. S'pretty funny.

"You're disgusting! Don't you even knock?" Her voice is shrill, loud, and it almost hurts his ears.

"I _did!_" Puck retorts, leaning against the wall. He can't help the way his eyes move to her collarbone, to her cleavage, almost covered by the costume. He smirks, and looks back up, and he actually finds it kind of sexy, the way she's breathing all heavy and angry and stuff.

"Get. Out." Rachel says lowly, unmoving from the spot. Puck grins, taunting her.

"Why? I've seen you naked before," He replies. "You haven't changed. Still hot."

"There is such a thing as sexual harassment, you know," She answers, the blush on her cheeks turning even redder.

"Alright. Shit. Chill out, I'm going," He gives in and stuffs his hands in his pockets, turning away from her. "Move your ass though. We're ready to film."

He hears her groan softly as he heads back towards the door, and he stops when she calls after him, looking back at her over his shoulder. "What?"

She closes her eyes for a second, and sighs heavily. "Wait. Just wait there."

She disappears back into the bathroom and emerges just seconds later, now wearing the dress as opposed to covering herself with it. He raises an eyebrow expectantly, and she's still blushing, but she walks over to him and turns around, exposing her bare back.

She's still not wearing a bra, and he can't help it if he licks his lips.

"Zip me?" She asks quietly, and he obliges, sliding the zipper slowly up the dress. His hands brush softly over her bare skin as he does so, and his breath catches quietly when Rachel shudders beneath his fingers as they dance over a particularly sensitive part of her back.

She glances back at him and he tilts his head to one side, smirking at her.

"I'm tickly," She offers in way of an explanation, and the corners of her lips are pulling upwards in a small, barely-there smile.

"You always were," He replies easily, and he lets go of her. He steps back quickly, simply because he can't be this fucking close to her right now, when he's still semi-hard and she looks so fucking gorgeous. He's supposed to hate her, and she makes that so fucking difficult. "You ready?"

"Yes." She grabs her phone from the little table and heads over to the door. "Walk me to set?"

He shakes his head, knowing that walking with her means talking to her, and he really doesn't want to do that. Talking will lead to arguing, arguing will lead to bringing up past issues, and he'd rather they _stayed_ in the past. So no, he doesn't want to walk her to set.

"Nah. M'gonna go print off some contracts then hit up the food table."

"Okay," She climbs down from the trailer, moves in the direction of the set. She turns around, walking backwards, shooting him a little wave. "Oh, and I'd deeply appreciate it if you kept what you just witnessed to yourself. I'd like to forget that it happened."

She's blushing again and Puck grins in spite of himself. "That you were dancing around naked? Shit, babe, I won't forget. I'll be reliving that little moment every night when I'm naked too."

She splutters indignantly, her hands flying up to cover her face in embarrassment. "You're disgusting, Noah Puckerman!"

He laughs; she's actually pretty cute when she's all outraged. Whatever.

"Sure am," He agrees cheerfully, and he walks away from her, adding a cheerful whistle just for extra effect.

He knows without looking that she's glaring after him. He can practically feel her murderous stare against his back. He waves over his shoulder.

… … …

Rachel's lips are starting to feel bruised and swollen, and she smiles sympathetically at Leon, who is currently standing beside her, pressing his own lips together. They've been kissing on and off for almost two hours now, because Ben just doesn't seem to be happy with the scene.

It's hot on set; the lights are blinding, the air is humid, and temperatures are high.

She sits down on one of the prop boxes set up in the fake little side street, and yawns tiredly, running her fingers through her hair. She regrets it. The action causes one of the stylists, Lily, to come running over, and immediately start brushing at her hair, tugging at her, and suddenly Rachel finds herself choking on a cloud of hairspray. She coughs and Lily apologizes sincerely, using her hand to fan the air away from her. Rachel smiles tiredly up at the woman, shaking her head in a "don't even worry about it" manner.

"It's hot today," Rachel murmurs as Lily looks for the lip gloss to touch up Rachel's lips.

"I know," The stylist says sympathetically. "I'd hate to be you right now, under all of these lights. We have about eight fans set up in the make-up trailer."

Rachel groans enviously at the mention of a fan. "What are the chances of setting one up for me here between scenes?"

"Ben would kill you," Lily smiles. "It would mess up your hair, and I just got it sitting _perfectly_."

Rachel sighs and Leon laughs from behind her, nudging her back. "You okay there, champ?"

"Hot," Rachel says pathetically, and he nods in understanding, watching as Lily begins to slick a scarlet-colored gloss over Rachel's lips.

"Holy fucking shit. It's like a sauna in here," A loud voice comes from behind her, where the camera and crew are stationed, and she closes her eyes. Noah is back, and she bites her lip as she hears everyone greet him warmly. Apparently his crude jokes and terrible language are found to be amusing on this set, and he's somehow managed to make friends with everyone. Except her, of course. With Noah, he's either teasing her with awful sexual innuendos, or criticizing everything she does. It's not fair and she hates it, but she's far too professional to make a fuss. Besides, there's a little part of her that hopes that they'll get out of whatever little funk that they're in and become friends again. They used to be close, even before they started dating. He'd made a good friend, and she hasn't forgotten that.

"Rachel!" Lily scolds her for biting her lip and Rachel apologizes sheepishly before Lily adds another coat of gloss. Finally, the girl steps back and examines Rachel closely. "You're perfect. Try not to sweat."

She giggles as Rachel pouts, and grabs her tray, moving to powder Leon's face.

Rachel turns to face the crew, and she feels a little better when she spots several people fanning themselves with spare copies of the script. She's not the only one suffering in this heat.

"Can I have some water please?" Rachel calls out sweetly, flashing one of the assistants a grateful smile. "With a straw or Lily might kill me."

Lily laughs from behind her, and Rachel smiles, resting her head against the wall. She sits up straighter though, when she sees Puck walking towards her, holding a bottle of water. He holds it out to her and she takes it gratefully, watching as he pulls a pink straw from behind his ear and offers that to her too. She accepts.

"Thank you," She says quietly, and takes a long sip from the straw, the ice-cold water providing her with an immediate sense of relief. "Mmmm."

"How long've you been here?" Noah asks her, and she quickly works it out in her head.

"Over two hours now," She says with a tired sigh. "The lighting was a nightmare and we had to make changes to the script, and it's so hot that I could _die_."

He laughs at that, sitting down beside her and drumming his fingers against his thighs. "Always the dramatic one, Berry."

She smiles. "What have you been doing today?"

"Meetings this morning. Then I had to deal with some contracts and shit. Now I figured I'd stop by again, see how things are going."

"They'd be going much better if the heat wasn't making everyone cranky," She admitted, smoothing out her dress a little.

"Complaining?" He asks her, eyebrows raised. "Missing Broadway?"

She shakes her head. "Not at all. I love it here. I just don't like the heatwaves. I'm a New Yorker, we're not really used to them."

"Hey, so I was watching some of your earlier takes," Puck says, and even though she's not looking at him, she can feel his eyes on her. She rolls her eyes and rests her head against the wall, again, looking up at the ceiling.

"Let me guess. Everything was all wrong."

"Not everything. But you were saying the lines with too much emotion. You gotta detach yourself from the relationship a little."

Rachel huffs in annoyance, tilting her head to face him. "No one else seemed to have a problem with how I said my lines.."

"You guys did the take sixteen times."

"Oh, and that's_ my_ fault?" She hisses angrily, and she hates the way he's smiling at her all innocently. He's only saying these things to get under her skin, but he still manages to annoy her. Of course it wasn't her fault. They changed the lighting, the actions, even some of the lines, but the scene just wasn't working on screen. It definitely wasn't just her acting. Of course not. Though maybe he has a point. The scene could definitely be a lot more intense, even sexier, if she were to detach herself, play harder to get.

"M'just doing my job, babe." He says, and gets to his feet, wiping a little bead of sweat from his forehead. She glares at him.

"You do your job, Noah, but please don't tell me how to do mine," She snaps bitchily, despite knowing that she's going to give his advice a try anyway.

He begins to walk away and she crosses her arms in front of her chest, irked.

"And don't call me 'babe'!" She calls after him, because it seems important that she draws up some boundaries between them. She's close to doing something childish like stamping her foot, when he simply spins on the spot and winks at her, before walking over to a pretty blonde assistant, leaning close to whisper something in her ear.

He's such a jerk, that boy.

… … …

Watching Rachel kiss another dude is _not_ fun. And okay, so she's in character and whatever, but still. He _hates_ the way that Leon's hands are ghosting over her hips, inching closer and closer to her ass. He _hates_ the way that Rachel's hands are holding Leon's face to hers. He _hates_ the way that she has one of her legs tangled around his. And he _hates_ that he's being paid to watch this shit.

He watches silently, jaw clenched, as Rachel pulls away from Leon, and shoves him a little, creating space between them. Leon raises an eyebrow and Rachel smirks, resting one hand on her hip.

"This is a dangerous little game you're playing, Zac," She says, and her voice is smooth and sexy, and he feels his pants tighten a little, he's not gonna lie.

"You seemed to be enjoying the game though," Leon retorts, and he takes a step closer to Rachel. Rachel, perfectly in character, takes a step back so that their movements are perfectly synchronized.

Rachel laughs dryly, putting a hand on Leon's chest to stop him from moving any closer to her. "The thing about games, Zac, is that I like to win."

Leon grins at her, his hand covering Rachel's. You could cut the fucking tension with a knife, and Puck hates watching, but he can't look away either.

"I like to win too."

"I'm good at games, though. You don't stand a chance against me." Rachel says, twisting Leon's wrist and shoving his hand away forcefully. It looks impressive, even though Puck knows that Rachel is insanely weak, and had watched as she and Leon choreographed that little move quickly before the cameras started rolling.

"Is that a challenge?" Leon smirks and Rachel tilts her head back with a quiet laugh and roll of her eyes. "Because if it is, we should go back to my place. I have games. Monopoly, Scrabble, Twister..."

Rachel purses her lips and raises her eyebrows. "I've always been a fan of Monopoly."

Leon takes a step closer again, snaking his arm around Rachel's waist. This time, she doesn't pull away. "My car is round the front."

"When I win," Rachel says lowly, letting him lead her along the fake little alley. "You have to do something for me."

"What is that I'll be doing?" Leon asks curiously, and Rachel pats his cheek patronizingly.

"Don't worry, Zachary. You'll find out soon enough."

"And cut!" Ben's voice booms out through the large area, and Puck watches Rachel closely as she breaks character, sliding away from Ben to accept the water that an assistant has raced forward to give her. "Nice work guys. That was perfect. We got it."

He hears Rachel breathe out a sigh of relief, and watches as laughs musically, slapping her palm against Leon's when he offers her a high five.

He can't quite get over how sexy she was in that scene, in her short little dress with her hair slicked back in this hot-as-fuck ponytail. He takes a breath and brushes it off, heading over to the food table for a cookie.

… … …

Rachel calls her boyfriend at 9pm, when she's leaving her trailer and is finally able to go home. Her hair is tied back in a messy french braid, simply to keep the heat away from her neck. Instead of the jeans and t-shirt she'd came to set in this morning, she's changed into a small pair of shorts and a light tank top, because even though the summer sun is setting, she's pretty sure that she's still close to passing out of heat exhaustion. Or something like that.

Nate sounds happy to hear from her, and she clutches the phone tightly to her ear as she walks past the rows and rows of trailers. She misses him. She misses her friends. She misses New York.

It's the first thing she says to him once they've gotten past their 'hellos'.

"I miss you so much."

"Darling, I miss you too. The apartment is too quiet without you." Nate replies, and she can tell he's smiling through the line. "Where are you?"

She hums softly, sadly, basking in the sound of his voice. She's unwilling to admit that she's a little homesick. "About to head home. How is work?"

"A nightmare. I have deadlines coming out of my ears."

"You should take a break," Rachel says hopefully, holding the phone to her ear using just her shoulder as she fishes around in her bag to find her car keys. She's rented a little yellow Volkswagen beetle to use during her time in LA, and she loves it. She smiles into the phone. "Come visit me."

Nate laughs gently. "It hasn't even been a full month yet, sweetheart."

"So?" Rachel's pouting as she reaches the car park, and she pulls her keys out of her bag in triumph. "Does that mean I can't miss you?"

"Of course not," Nate soothes her, and she sighs quietly.

"I miss coming home to you every day," She admits. She sees Noah out of the corner of her eye, a short distance away from her, obviously leaving the studio too. He's holding his phone, texting intently. She turns to look at him, waving her hand in greeting when he looks up at her, and he nods in acknowledgment, despite the distance between them, before he goes straight back to texting. She lowers her voice as she continues speaking, murmuring gently into the phone as she walks to her car. "And I miss having your hands on me. I miss you making love to me, Nate."

She's not lying. She's been feeling particularly _restless_ for the last couple of weeks, and she's resorted to using her own hand late at night when she's thinking of her boyfriend. Still, and she'll _never_ admit it, especially not to Nate, but sometimes she's had to think of Taye Diggs instead, because the image of her boyfriend just wasn't working for her. She can only assume it's a result of distance taking its toll between them. She hasn't seen him in weeks, after all. She doesn't even really remember what he smells like anymore.

"Rachel," Nate warns, his voice stern. "You should really wait until you get home before you say those things."

"No one can hear me," She reassures him, clutching the phone tighter to his ear. "Please come and visit me soon, Nate. Please?"

The man sighs at the other end of the phone, but she can tell that the sigh isn't a serious one. "Soon. Let me deal with all of these deadlines and I'll book a flight, okay?"

Rachel lets out a little squeal, jumping up and down as she reaches her car. "You mean it?"

"I mean it."

She smiles hugely, excited at the thought of a familiar piece of New York spending some time with her in California. LA is nice, but it's not home, and she misses the comfort of the city. "I should go. But I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay, my darling. Sleep well tonight."

"I love you."

"You too."

She hangs up then, a little more cheerful now than she was before. She can't wait to go home, take a cold shower, and maybe have a glass of wine or two.

… … …

Puck ends up at a bar, though he only stays for ten minutes. He's a stud, and that's all the time he needs to pick up a chick. Or two, in this case. He didn't even need to order a drink, he's just _that_ good.

So he heard Rachel on the phone in the parking lot. She thought she was being quiet, but seriously, when is she _ever_ quiet? Point is, he heard every word, and he's equal parts jealous and kind of horny.

So maybe he's never gotten fully over her. Whatever. She's a bitch, and he's decided that to get over her he's just gonna have to get under a bunch of other chicks.

And that's how he ends up driving two twenty-one year old girls – a blonde and a brunette – back to a shitty little apartment in downtown LA. The blonde is draped over him the entire car ride, whilst the brunette sits in the backseat but leans forward so that she can whisper dirty things in his ear as he drives.

When they reach the apartment, he has them all naked within seconds, and it pretty much takes no time at all before he ends up lying on the couch, the brunette riding his dick as he licks the pussy of the blonde who hovers above him. He fucks her too afterwards, just in a measure of fairness.

It feels good, to fuck out his frustrations, but he leaves immediately afterwards and doesn't leave them his number. He's not even offended when they don't ask (girls usually do).

He goes back to his place feeling somewhat satisfied and in need of a shower.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry it took me so long to update! Writer's block is just the worst thing, but I'm recovering! Expect the next chapter soon, and a couple of long oneshots along with it. :) Also, since you're here and reading this, I feel like I should tell you about the Puckleberry Fanfiction Awards that is currently happening over on Livejournal. Take just a few moments to vote for your favorite authors and get in on the fun! Hurry though; nominations end on the 31st! (prfanficawards[DOT]livejournal[DOT]com)**

* * *

><p>Rachel heads over to the food table at lunch one day to find a pretty blonde girl filling a plate high with lettuce, two cherry tomatoes, and not much else. She looks about twenty-one, and she's wearing a strapless dress that barely covers her panties. It's cream, and Rachel can actually see the bright blue bra she's wearing through the material. The girl looks vaguely familiar (an extra, maybe), and so Rachel smiles politely at her as she grabs a tray and starts spooning pasta into a small bowl.<p>

"Hello," She greets, offering a hand for the girl to shake, and sitting her bowl on an empty tray. "I'm Rachel Berry."

The blonde girl beams hugely at her, and grabs her hand with both of her own. "You're the star of this movie, ohmygod. _Hi_! That's so cool! I'm Katie."

Rachel laughs a little and breaks the handshake to pick up an apple and sit it on her tray. "I hope you don't mind me asking, Katie, but I haven't seen you around before. What do you-"

"Oh," She answers before Rachel can even finish her question, clapping her hands together giddily. "I don't work here. Puck brought me, can you believe it?"

Rachel raises her eyebrows. She doesn't mean to, it's just that _no_, she can't believe it. "You came here with Noah?"

"No, I came with _Puck_. Who's Noah?" Katie shakes her head with a smile, and Rachel opens her mouth to reply but quickly decides not to. In the time that she's been in LA -this is almost her eighth week filming - she hasn't ever seen Noah with a girl, although she's heard more than enough stories and read many articles on the subject. Producers aren't often chased by the paparazzi, but it seems that Noah is an exception to that rule, simply because he's attractive and dates a lot of famous girls. She reads about him almost every week in the tabloids, when she's getting her nails done. It's the first time however, that he's brought one of his dates to the set, though she relaxes a little when she realizes that their relationship can't be very serious if Katie doesn't even know Noah's name.

No, she doesn't know why she tensed in the first place, and she definitely does not want to question it. So instead, Rachel changes the subject.

"Have I seen you before?" Rachel asks cheerfully, adding a bottle of fruit juice to her tray. "You look so familiar!"

Katie beams. "I'm the girl in the new Gucci campaign! Also, I'm a dancer. I was in Lady Gaga's last video. And Katy Perry's. And you might have seen me in _People_ with Puck, the night he took me to the Olive Garden."

Rachel can only nod her head before Katie starts talking again.

"I'm totally proud of myself. At first Puck only wanted sex – which is fantastic, I mean, how could it not be? - but I was all, 'No, if you want to keep getting all up on this, you gotta show me some respect' and I made him take me out for dinner, and I asked him to bring me to set today, because I wanted to see what he did. That's not like, creepy, right? I mean, this movie set is just so cool! And I totally think he's into me, y'know? I mean, I'm making him work for it. That's good, right?"

Rachel isn't sure what the feeling is that's coursing through her veins right now, but she certainly doesn't like it one bit. Katie seems lovely, even with her tendency to ramble, but she doesn't want to hear this. Of course, she's much too polite to tell Katie to stop talking.

So she only smiles and nods again, as she picks up her tray. "Definitely good."

The blonde grins at her, all perfect teeth and bright eyes. "You're such a good listener, Rachel. Thank you."

Katie picks up a bottle of water and scans the label quickly, pursing her bright pink lips. She looks up at Rachel, her expression completely serious all of a sudden. "Hey, how many calories are in water, do you know?"

… … …

Rachel grits her teeth a few hours later, when Noah and Katie walk on set together between takes. Katie is clinging to his arm, and he's wearing a satisfied smirk. They've been gone for almost an hour now, and it's most definitely not a secret what they've been doing during their absence. Rachel can't help but notice the way one of Katie's bra straps is all twisted, and the fact that Noah's t-shirt is half-tucked into his dark jeans. Also, there's a thin sheen of sweat across his forehead, and Katie's face is more than a little flushed.

She's a little surprised to find that she hates looking at them, and promptly turns away when she watches Katie smile easily and reaches to fix Noah's shirt.

She scowls at her shoes when someone stupidly lets out a whistle and starts applauding as Noah makes his presence known, and she feels like kicking over a random prop chair as the applause grows louder, and Noah only laughs in response.

Unable to resist, she glances back to find Katie giggling into Noah's shoulder.

Nope, she doesn't like that one little bit. She doesn't even want to think about why.

… … …

The thing is, Puck doesn't even want Katie on set. Not really. But she pulled all this "Are you just using me for sex?" shit, and blinked her eyes, and there's just something about sad chicks that makes Puck want to fix them. He thinks that's down to living with two women growing up, and so all of a sudden Puck is acting like a nice guy and taking her to dinner and bringing her to his work, and she's all excited and grateful, and then she's pulling him into an empty room for a quickie (that actually wasn't so quick) in the middle of the afternoon.

That part isn't so bad, he's not gonna lie. But he hates that everyone is suddenly thinking she's his girlfriend. She's definitely not. She's hot and nice, and she's pretty cute, but she's too much of an airhead. And she talks way too much. Non-stop.

He can only think of one girl where he found that shit cute. That same girl has been watching he and Katie all day, whether she means to or not. So he can't be blamed for giving her a bit of a show, alright?

In between takes, when Ben is using a small screen to watch what was just filmed, Katie sidles over to him and flashes him a smile, slipping her hand into his. Puck hates hand-holding about 90% of the time, but Rachel is right next to him talking to Nick as she watches her scene, and so he suddenly finds himself spinning Katie under his arm before pulling her close to kiss her lightly.

Katie giggles like it's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done, and she kisses him again, slipping her tongue into his mouth to search for his. She's a good kisser and so he kisses her back, still holding her hand.

He likes Katie, he does. Just not in that way.

And then he hears Rachel murmur something like "highly inappropriate" just as someone clears his throat, so he opens his eyes and pulls away to find Nick smirking at him and Rachel rolling her eyes. He only laughs, and Katie sticks her tongue out at Nick for the interruption.

… … ...

It's actually pretty funny, that Katie dumps him the next day. Okay, so it can't really count as being dumped when technically he wasn't even _with_ her, but whatever. She does it over the phone too, which he isn't even bothered about.

She says something about not having any chemistry, even though he's "super-hot and great in bed". Then she proceeds to ramble about how their star signs aren't compatible, or some shit, and he doesn't even listen as she speaks, just holds the phone to his ear, makes some occasional sympathetic noises and channel surfs, flicking between some fishing show and a baseball game.

So yeah, whatever that shit with Katie was, it's over. He's okay with that.

… … …

Rachel gets the absolute fright of her life one afternoon. She's in the massive prop warehouse on the studio lot, simply exploring. She doesn't need to be in hair and make-up for another hour, and she's always thought that the prop storage was incredibly interesting, and so out of boredom she finds herself wandering through the aisles, giggling at some of the most ridiculous things. She's actually rather tempted to try on the mermaid tail she found, and go back to those fake ocean rocks, where she could sing Part of Your World from the Little Mermaid. She'd make a simply exquisite Ariel, of course. She knows all about not wanting to fit in and stay in the same old kingdom.

The lights in the warehouse turn off just as she's planning the exact time her voice should crack with emotion. Surprised, Rachel lets out a squeak and drops the fake fish she's holding, letting it fall to the ground with a muted thud.

"Hello?" She calls out uncertainly, inching her way slowly back towards the door, unable to see in the blackness. Her heart is pounding. There's no answer, and she can't help but think about the many horror movies she's watched with scenes just like this.

And then, in an instant, she realizes that she's acting like a scared child. Rachel Berry is _no_ child. She's brave, and confident, and independent, and there's nothing to be scared of. So the lights have turned off – it's not like she's going to be murdered in a prop room. She giggles a little to herself, a little breathlessly. She's acting silly, and it's with that thought in mind that she walks a little more purposefully, shaking her head in amusement at her own actions.

It's probably just a blown fuse, anyway.

But suddenly, there's a loud clutter that echoes through the huge room, and a gasp escapes Rachel's lips, and she thinks that maybe she isn't alone after all. It sounds pretty far away, but the sound makes her jump, and she spins around, looking straight into the darkness.

"Hello?" She calls out again, willing her voice to sound confident. "Is anyone here?"

Once again, there's no answer, but there _is_ another thud, and this one sounds closer.

Taking a deep breath, Rachel summons all of her courage and begins moving again, while she fumbles in her pocket for her phone. The squeak of someone's shoe on the tiled floor sounds from an aisle near hers, and she tries to ignore the pounding of her heartbeat drumming in her ears.

"I refuse to play whatever little game this is," She calls out suddenly, but her voice sounds shaky and she knows it. "It's silly, and childish, and I want you to stop!"

With a huff, Rachel finds her phone and pulls it out, immediately pressing some keys so that the light illuminates the aisle slightly. It helps her see and she's grateful, though she jumps when the tiny beam hits a rather terrifying-looking gorilla head.

"Ohmygod," She whispers to herself, trying to get a hold of her fear. She holds the phone in front of her, squinting in the darkness. The light reflects off the large glass eye of a model dinosaur, and she squeaks a little, quickly sidestepping through to another aisle. Body tense, Rachel continues moving, using her hands and the small beam of light to guide her through the large warehouse.

More clutters sound, and they're undeniably coming from an aisle close-by.

Rachel clutches her phone tightly, trying to remember everything she learned in her six-month self-defense class. Nothing comes to her mind immediately, so she quickly reaches out to grab something, anything that could be used to defend herself. But what she grabs feels hairy and squishy at the same time, and so she shrieks and jerks away, her footsteps faster and more purposeful.

Feeling a sudden gush of air behind her, Rachel gasps and spins on her heel, only to find that the aisle behind her appears to be completely empty. There is, however, a gap in the shelves leading into another aisle, so she quickly steps in that direction, looking for any signs of movement.

She is going to _kill_ the person who's putting her through this. A long and painful death. Unless, of course, it's a real-life axe-murderer, who plans to kill her first. In that case, she doesn't really have a chance, but she fully intends to come back and haunt them.

"I'm going to die," She mutters quietly, as she makes her way through the warehouse. "I'm going to die, and I only have one Tony!"

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Rachel's neck stand up, and goosebumps cover Rachel's bare arms. Tense, and unable to shake the feeling that someone's watching her, she slowly turns around, the beam of light following her movements.

Standing motionlessly in the aisle behind her is a hooded figure in a long black cloak, a large knife held in his hand. Skin is peeling from his face, and large scars run across his cheeks and forehead. Angry sores cover almost every inch of his skin, and his lips are curled upwards in some sort of smirk.

Rachel wants to throw up. She scrambles backwards, eyes huge and full of fear. It takes her a second to realize that the scream she's hearing is coming from her own lips.

And then, as she's backing away, hand over her mouth, she sees a pair of camouflaged board shorts from underneath the swish of the cloak. She saw those shorts earlier today and knows exactly who they belong to. And suddenly, she realizes that the man's shoulders are shaking, not from some bloodthirsty desperation to kill, but from laughter. He's laughing at her.

And in the space of less than a second, Rachel Berry turns from absolutely petrified to downright furious.

"Noah Puckerman!" She roars, her voice echoing in the darkness. Noah, obviously unable to control himself anymore, let's out a loud bark of amusement and drops the knife as he gives in to his laughter, and Rachel watches through the light of her phone as it bounces on the floor of the warehouse. Knives aren't supposed to bounce; it's rubber.

In one swift movement, Noah takes off the terrifying mask and lets his cloak drop to the floor, and the light reflects against the glimmer of tears in his eyes as he laughs.

She's mortified. And angry. She thought she was going to die.

She strides towards him then, her fists balled furiously, and the second she reaches him, she begins hitting at his chest, her hands still shaking from the adrenaline.

Noah's own hands move to hold her wrists still, and he takes a huge breath, regaining his control. She glares up at him, trying to wrestle away his grip on her, but he refuses, and he's smiling wide as he looks down at her.

"Got you good," Is all he says, and she almost growls, quickly turning herself under his arms so that he has no choice but to let her go. Unthinking, Rachel grabs the closest thing to throw at him in an act of sheer frustration, and she watches in frozen surprise as a small plastic bag of fake blood flies through the air and hits Noah square on the chest, bursting at the impact. Instantly, Noah is showered in red liquid, and the pair can only stare at each other, blinking in surprise before they realize what just happened.

Rachel is the first one to react, and she lets out an unstoppable giggle as Noah wipes fake blood from his forehead. At the sound, his smile returns, and Noah steps towards her menacingly as Rachel bites on her lower lip.

"That's what you get," She says proudly, though she's a little worried about the smirk on his face.

In a blur of movement, Noah reaches out to grab a second bag and he aims it right at her. Hurriedly, she tries to dive out of the way, but it's too late; the bag hits her shoulder and promptly bursts, and she's suddenly drenched in red.

"Oh!" She splutters, wiping her lips as blood trickles down her face. "That's never going to come out of these clothes!"

Puck smirks and picks up a big bottle of fake blood this time, and Rachel's eyes grow wide as he tilts his head to the side, watching her. "That's what you get."

"Don't," She warns, backing away from him, but she's trying hard not to smile, and she puts her hands on her cheeks. "Noah. Don't!"

Noah shrugs and makes a sudden gesture, as if to dart forwards, but as he does, there's a high-pitched squeak of his shoes against the blood-stained floor, and he's suddenly slipping and falling, landing in a heap in the red puddle.

It's Rachel's turn to laugh and she does so loudly, throwing her head back and making no effort to hide her pleasure in his misfortune. She hears Noah laugh too, and there are tears in her eyes and she can't _breathe_, and_ then_ she feels a hand on her ankle and the man is effortlessly pulling her over, and she lands on his lap on the ground with him, where he quickly pours the bottle over her head. She screams.

"I hate you!" She says with a hiccup, her hands moving to her head, trying to ring out the blood from her hair.

"I hate you too, Princess," Noah says with a chuckle before he dumps her on the floor beside him. Rachel huffs and looks desperately around for something to pay him back with, as Noah looks down for a second, fixing himself.

She sees it quickly, in the beam of light shining from from her blood-splattered phone; a large tube of silver glitter on one of the lowest shelves. She grabs it quickly, and the flash of movement makes Noah look up.

"What've you got there?" He says suspiciously, and Rachel scrambles onto her knees, shrugging innocently.

"Nothing."

Noah's eyes narrow, and he copies her position, also getting onto his knees just inches away from her. "Rachel."

"Noah."

"What've you got behind your back?"

"Nothing."

She beams at him, mimicking the way he slowly gets up on his feet. Behind her back, she opens the tube and drops the lid, and it falls to the ground with the tiniest thud.

"What did you do there?" Noah asks lowly, and she shakes her head, still wearing a fake smile.

"I don't know what you're talking about," She says sweetly, and steps towards him just as he takes a step back, his eyebrows raised.

Slowly, Rachel pulls out the tube of glitter. And even though the warehouse is pitch black, the glints of the glitter can clearly be seen.

He examines her for a second then smiles, and then he's running away from her, his retreating figure blending into the darkness.

"Fuck no you don't!" He's shouting, and she can't help but giggle as she runs after him.

She hears him from the next aisle, and she knows from her early experience with her 'axe-murderer', that there's a way she can cut him off. This game isn't going to last very long for him, and so she quickly moves to block his path, and turns off her phone light to confuse him. She hears him curse under his breath, but there's laughter in his tone, and she tries her very hardest to be quiet as she waits for him.

There's the pounding of footsteps approaching her, and as he gets closer she holds up the tube and tosses the glitter out into the air.

"Shit!" He swears loudly and Rachel laughs in complete triumph, quickly turning her phone back on so that she can see her work. Noah stands, inches away from her, soaked in fake blood and plastered in silver glitter.

"Shit," He repeats, looking down at himself. When he looks back up at her though, he's smiling. "You got me."

"I got you," She agrees, sitting the tube on a shelf. "Are we done now?"

Noah grimaces as he attempts to wipe glitter from his face then nods his head, smiling a little as he examines his glittery arms. "Yeah, we're done. Fuck. I look like that stupid sparkly vampire from that thing."

Rachel opens her mouth to reply, but she's interrupted by the sound of the warehouse doors opening, and she blinks in sudden brightness as the lights turn on. It's then she realizes the full state of herself and Noah, and her hands fly to her mouth. Their entire bodies are red, Noah is literally glittering, and there's an unmissable trail of fake blood behind them. All amusement is suddenly gone.

They hear people enter the room, and Rachel looks at Noah in fear.

"We're going to be in so much trouble!" She hisses, and Noah shrugs. Rachel kicks him.

"Fuck. Fine, c'mere." He bends low and moves to pull Rachel towards the exit, but she shakes her head determinedly.

"Noah, we can't leave like this. What if people see us? You're sparkly."

"Shit. Wait there," He instructs quietly, and sneaks around a corner, returning a couple of seconds with two more cloaks, identical to the one he wore earlier. Rachel glances at him in disbelief, before pulling it on her small body, wincing as the material sticks to her skin.

"Yes, because this won't look any more suspicious," She whispers sarcastically, but proceeds to crouch and follow Noah towards the exit, as the exclaims of two men sound from an aisle over.

"What the hell happened here? Call Carl!"

Rachel glances worriedly at Noah, but he simply winks and stays to the side of a set of shelves, moving quickly and quietly towards the set of doors. Rachel follows, breathing in relief when they finally step outside into bright sunlight, and move to stand round the corner of the warehouse.

"Well, shit," Noah laughs quietly, and he looks Rachel up and down. She frowns, wrapping the cloak tightly around herself. "You look completely fucking ridiculous."

"At least I'm not the one sparkling," Rachel retorts, rolling her eyes. Noah scoffs, his lips curved in a small smile.

They stare at each other for a moment, and Rachel can't explain why her palms are sweaty. She keeps a firm hold of her cloak, her eyes on his as he stares intently at her, not saying a word. It's unnerving, but she refuses to be the one to break the silence.

"Alright," Noah claps his hands together, nodding his head in the direction of the trailers. "Let's go."

He starts moving, keeping close to the wall so that he can avoid the various people walking around the set. It seems to work – they blend into the shadows cast by the buildings and various palm trees, and no one appears to notice them.

"Wait, where are we going?" Rachel asks curiously, following his every step.

"Your trailer. I need a fucking shower. I'm never gonna get this glitter off."

Rachel sighs, but doesn't argue. "I'm going first."

They make it to the trailer without any problems, and Rachel has just opened the door when Nick steps around the corner. He's on his cellphone, but hangs up instantly when he spots them in long black robes, every inch of them red and sparkling. He lets out a low whistle, and Noah laughs when Nick cheerfully states that Carl the prop guy is going to be pissed.

… … …

So yeah, they're both made to pay for the damages, including the cleaning of expensive costumes and the replacing of some props. Whatever, Puck doesn't really mind that, but he hates the way Ben speaks to him when he pulls he and Rachel up about it.

"I don't know what's going on with you two, but you really need to get over yourselves," He says, not unkindly. But still, Puck glares at the guy, and Rachel blushes beside him, looking down at her skirt.

It's been two days since they pretty much destroyed part of the prop house, and he's guessing that it was Nick who told Carl, who told Ben. Point is, he and Rachel are being told off like a bunch of kids, and he doesn't like it.

"I don't get it. First there's all this tension where you, Puck, won't stop complaining about Rachel, and then there's you, Rach, who avoids Puck like the plague. And to solve this you both decide to attack each other in the prop house? Can we please try to establish some form of professionalism here, for the sake of team morale, or whatever? You know as well as I do Puck, that we're having issues right now. Don't make it harder by acting like children and giving us a bad rep."

Puck sighs slowly, running a hand over his head. He hates to admit it, but Ben's right. "Yeah, man. Sorry."

"I'm sorry, Ben," Rachel pipes up from beside him. He doesn't look at her. "I don't even know what I was thinking. I'm usually far more professional and I can't-"

"It's fine. I usually wouldn't even mind, but Carl is pissed and tensions are already high right now, so..." Ben trails off with a shake of his head, and walks to the coffee machine, immediately pouring himself an espresso. "Puck, can you call the guys over at the office? Set up a meeting for sometime next week. Not Friday though."

"Already done. Thursday at four."

"Thanks. And I've booked you and Rachel a table at Di Salvo's on Friday at eight. You're having dinner and you're going to work out the issues you appear to have."

"The fuck dude, you can't just-"

"Puck, man. Chill. It's not a punishment. Just learn not to hate her for my sake, or I may kill you both."

"I don't hate her," He mutters, but he does it quietly so that no one hears him. He's pissed that Ben is bossing him around, kind of, but he knows that the guy has good intentions. And yeah, the dude has enough to stress about. The execs at the network are questioning the whole entire movie, and everyone's working hard to assure them that they're making the right choice.

Puck, knowing that they're done here, gets up and claps Ben's shoulder before exiting the room. Rachel follows but stays quiet until they're outside in the parking lot, where she immediately turns to glare at him, cheeks flushed.

"I can't believe you got me into trouble! This is all your fault!"

"Shit, Rachel. What are you, seven?"

She stares at him coldly. "Urgh. This is ridiculous. Why do you have to make things so difficult?"

Okay, so he doesn't hate her but he thinks he's pretty close to that right now. "I could ask you the same question, Princess."

She crosses her arms in front of her chest and glares, a piece of hair falling over her face. She blows it away impatiently. "You'd better show up tomorrow, Noah. I can't have anything else damaging my reputation right now. I mean it."

Puck chooses not to reply to that and simply walks away, back in the direction of his truck. He's out for the day.

… … …

The production meeting does not go well. Actually, it fucking blows. He and the others pretty much just spend the few hours they have almost begging to keep their jobs, to let the studio keep filming this movie. It sucks, because if the people from the studio fucking took the time to come down to set for more than a couple of hours at a time, then they'd see that what they have is pretty damn epic.

Ben, Nick, and Puck leave the meeting together, each man equally stressed. They share only muttered goodbyes as they leave, and Puck reminds himself to set up a meeting with the people from advertising. Maybe the could leak a crappy or story or something in order to gain some interest. The thought blows, but he really doesn't have much of a choice anymore.

… … …

The following night is his stupid dinner-date with Rachel, and he shows up at the resturant twenty-five minutes late. Rachel is waiting at the table wearing a displeased expression, and she promptly orders a bottle of wine from a hovering waitress when he sits down next to her.

"It took you long enough to get here," She hisses, and Puck rolls his eyes because, seriously, he is _not_ in the mood for this shit. He and Rachel, when forced in a room together, are either really good or really bad, and he can't be bothered sticking around long enough to find out what it'll be tonight.

"Stop being so freaking uptight all the time," Puck retorts, sliding into the seat beside her. "There was traffic. It's LA. Not my problem."

"You obviously have no manners," Rachel says primly, reaching over the table for her menu. "The polite thing to do would have been to call ahead and let me know that you were delayed."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

"You've always been a great conversationalist," Rachel notes dryly, and Puck looks up at her, raising one eyebrow. "You're so good to talk to."

"Hey, you used to like talking to me," Puck replies, leaning back casually in his chair. "I remember that there was one certain type of conversation used to love. It involved me whispering the things I was planning to do you in your ear as my fingers worked their way-"

"Noah!" The girl whispers furiously, a scarlet blush filling her cheeks. "You're being so inappropriate right now. Stop."

"You love it."

"Hardly."

The waitress brings the wine then, and in Puck's opinion, she can't pour the glasses fast enough. Judging by Rachel's impatient fidgeting, she feels the same.

"What did Ben mean when he said that we – the movie - were having issues?" She asks, when the waitress has disappeared with their orders and Rachel has taken a long sip of wine. "Is it anything bad?"

Puck looks at her, with her huge eyes and worried frown, and he legit can't bring himself to tell her that they're having major problems with the studio, so he shrugs. "Nah, it's nothing I can't handle."

She visibly relaxes, even manages to flash him a little smile. "Good."

Puck nods, kind of, then drinks, looking around uninterestedly at the restaurant.

"Noah," Rachel reaches across the table to touch his hand. He looks down at where her fingers rest on his palm then back up at her, and she quickly pulls her hand away. "Look, could you... Can we just eat an amicable, simple dinner together? Let's not make this complicated or start any... discussions. Please?"

He breathes in, runs a hand over his mohawk. "Yeah, okay."

… … …

Dinner goes well. Ben would be proud of them.

Puck walks her to her car after (they're both fine to drive, they only had a glass of wine each), and when she hugs him a little hesitantly, he actually kisses her cheek. It's an impulsive, friendly thing, and he kind of regrets doing it immediately afterwards, but she pulls back and flashes him this huge big smile, and he can't help but smirk back at her.

"Goodnight, Noah," She says happily, as she climbs into the car, and he waves in response, watches her drive away before he walks to his own truck. He doesn't know, at that point, that some unknown asshole is taking pictures of the whole exchange and plans to sell those pictures to Perez-fucking-Hilton later tonight.


	6. Chapter 6

It's Kurt who wakes Rachel the next morning, and Rachel moans tiredly into her pillow as the sound of her cellphone pulls her from her sleep. She keeps her eyes closed as she reaches out for the phone, as she fully intends on going straight back to sleep after this call.

"Hello?" She mumbles, and suddenly Kurt is spewing out words at the speed of light, his voice more amused and high-pitched than normal. She can make out only a few words here and there, and she genuinely has no idea what he's talking about.

"Wait. Kurt. What? Slow down!"

She hears Kurt sigh impatiently at the other end of the phone, and Rachel only buries herself further under the blankets.

"Wake up, Rachel! You need to head down to the nearest newsagent _right this very second_!"

She sighs, opening one eye. Her apartment is dark, though the sun is fighting against the curtains, desperate to let light into the large bedroom. "I don't- Why? What's going on?"

Kurt's voice is dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, don't worry, it's nothing major. Your face is _only_ on the cover of pretty much every tabloid in the entire world!"

Rachel bolts upright, eyes wide. "What?"

She hears Kurt chuckle, and she can tell he's absolutely thrilled over this. "It seems a certain date you went on last night with a very rich, well-known, notorious, film-producing bachelor has people questioning your relationship with him."

A squeak escapes Rachel's lips. "Oh no. Oh, this is bad, Kurt. It wasn't even a date! I was merely trying to reconnect with him for the sake of team morale! It was-"

She can almost hear Kurt rolling his eyes as he cuts her off. "I don't care about that Diva. What I do care about is how... _cozy_ you look in the pictures I have in front of me."

"How are there pictures? There was no one around!"

"You're not in Kansas anymore, darling. You're in Hollywood now. Keep up."

Rachel whimpers and swings her legs out of her warm bed, slipping her feet into her fuzzy pink slippers. "This is bad. This is so, so bad. Last night was nothing. He was only being friendly, really. Nate is going to freak out!

"Call him," Kurt urges her, and she nods despite the fact he can't see her. She holds the phone close to her ear as she pads into the kitchen and fills her kettle with cold water. She needs coffee. She needs to wake herself up. "Explain what's going on. Then go grab these newspapers and do some damage control. I knew I was right all those years ago when I said that I should be your publicist. But _no_, you said you didn't need one. Well, as your best friend I feel like I'm almost encouraged to say that _I told you so_."

Rachel rolls her eyes, and sets up a mug of coffee. "Kurt, I need to go."

"Yes, you do." He replies. "Call me later."

"I will."

She hangs up then, and suddenly realizes she has 34 missed phone calls, mostly from Nate. She closes her eyes as the kettle boils. She has absolutely no idea what she's supposed to do about this.

… … …

Puck's phone starts blowing up when he's out running. It's not even 8am yet, but a good morning run along the oceanfront wakes him up way more than coffee does. He loves running, especially when the beach is generally empty (with the exception of joggers and dog-walkers), and he doesn't need his iPod, because he can just listen to the sound of the waves without the annoying noises of children and tourists added in.

He's ran a good three miles when the first call comes in, but he doesn't stop to answer, just keeps running, letting the phone buzz in his pocket. Then it rings a second time, and a third, and a fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, and in between rings, it vibrates and beeps, alerting him of a bunch of text messages.

He swears and stops then, pulling the iPhone out of his pocket and scowling as it begins to ring again. It's Nick, and he answers grumpily, his breath coming out in shallow pants.

"'Lo?"

"Finally!" Nick says cheerfully. "Puck, man, you're a genius."

He's confused, and begins walking towards the sidewalk, noticing a little convenience store that's obviously just opening. He sees the owner sorting the display of newspapers and thinks he could use a cold bottle of water. "What'd I do?"

"That thing with Rachel last night, man! Fucking brilliant!"

Puck rolls his eyes, breaking into a light jog. "Nick, you're gonna have to lay this out for me, man. We only had dinner."

Nick sighs. "The paps found you, dude."

"So? The paps find me every other day, it's not-"

"Shut up. The paps found you taking your co-star to a fancy restaurant, walking her to her car, and kissing her goodnight. It's a slow news day. You're all over the papers and so, congratulations Puckerman, you and Rachel have just become Hollywood's new hottest couple!"

Aw, fuck.

"Aw, fuck."

Nick laughs. "It's brilliant. The exposure this is gonna get us... Fucking epic."

"Well I'm glad you're happy," Puck sighs. "The press aren't gonna leave me alone. And Berry's gonna freak the fuck out."

Puck reaches the sidewalk then and crosses the road, heading to the store. Sure enough, on a bunch of different newspapers he can see a dozen grainy pictures of he and Rachel leaving the restaurant, and the angle which they've been taken make the whole thing look a lot more intimate than it really was. One of the shots make it look like he's almost pressing her against her car. Another makes it look like they're holding hands.

Shit.

"I'm gonna go," Puck tells Nick, grabbing the nearest paper and heading for the counter.

"M'kay. Stand by though, I think Ben wants to see us today. Rachel too."

"Alright. Talk to you later, dude." Puck hangs up then, and passes the paper to the guy standing by the cash register. The older man blinks twice, looks at the front page and then back at Puck.

"Aren't you-"

Puck knows where this is going and stops it before it gets there. "Nah, I just look like him."

… … …

"_**SPOTTED:** Everyone's favorite movie producer, Noah 'Puck' Puckerman, was seen wining and dining his new flame Rachel Berry last night at Di Salvo's restaurant, Hollywood. Berry, who has starred in several Broadway productions including _Wicked_ and _West Side Story_, is swapping the stage for the big screen in the brand-new thriller 'Dirty Little Secrets', due to be released early next year. However, Berry isn't the only one who's lucky in love – her characters are too! The newcomer stars opposite Leon Carter, who will be playing the part of her ridiculously good-looking love interest. Puckerman signed on to produce the movie in February, along with Nick Cook. They'll work with director Ben Austin, who directed the Oscar-winning horror movie 'The Hunt' in March of last year._

_It's been confirmed that Puckerman, although he arrived at the restaurant obviously late, used his well-known charm to make it up to Rachel. Our source told us "You could practically feel the sexual tension radiating from them. She was mad at him at first, but by the end of the meal they were laughing and making fun of each other. They're a hot couple."_

_It's no secret that Puckerman has an undoubtable love of women. The producer has been linked to some A list celebrities before, including a brief affair with Taylor Swift, and pop sensation Dana Rose. Let's hope that this time, up-and-comer Rachel Berry can keep Puckerman on a short leash. See our website for more pictures of last night's date between Hollywood's new power couple!"_

… … …

Rachel paces back and fourth across her living room, clutching her cellphone to her ear as she one-handedly tries to fasten the zipper of her dress. She's been trying to reach Nate all morning, but he hasn't answered his phone so far. It's worrying her, especially because he tried to reach her twenty times this morning. Is he really that mad at her? She thinks he might actually believe the trash in the tabloids, which is completely ridiculous. She's just about to hang up and try texting him again when he answers.

"Hello?" His voice is cold, and Rachel's face falls.

"Please, please tell me you don't believe it," She says immediately, as she tugs at her zipper. "The pictures make it look a lot worse than it was! It was nothing, Nathan, absolutely nothing!"

There's a short pause and then he sighs. "I know what the press is like. I _do_ work for the New York Times, you know. Not that we'd ever print that garbage."

Rachel exhales in relief, finally managing to fasten her dress. "You believe me?"

"I believe you," Nate confirms. "Although I don't understand why you didn't tell me you were going for dinner with him."

"There was nothing to tell," Rachel replies, running into her bedroom to get her shoes. Ben had called her about half an hour ago, requesting her presence at the studio for an unplanned meeting. Rachel would have been annoyed, if he hadn't apologized for ruining her day off and made it up to her by telling her she can have three full days off next week. She's excited for that.

"Rachel-" Nate sounds slightly stand-offish and Rachel interrupts him quickly.

"Nate, it was more of a punishment than anything! Noah is one of the biggest jerks on the planet, trust me."

"But you let him kiss you in full-view in a parking lot in Hollywood anyway?"

"Please don't do this, Nate! It was nothing, just a goodbye kiss on the cheek. You said you believed me!" Rachel's fully aware that her voice is growing a little frantic, and she takes a deep breath to calm herself down. She hears Nate sigh again, and she clutches the phone tightly to her ear as she rummages in her closet for her silver flats.

"I do, darling. I believe you. I'm just jealous, I guess. I miss you."

Rachel smiles at that. "I miss you too. Come visit me."

"I plan on it."

"Soon?" Her voice is hopeful. Her bed gets lonely at night, without him.

"How does in three weeks sound? I have a huge amount of deadlines I have to finish before then, and I have Micheal's bachelor party, but then I can come."

Rachel squeals excitedly, tucking the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she successfully pulls out her shoes. Holding onto her dresser for balance, she slips them onto her feet. "Really? You can?"

"I can. I'll book the flight tonight, okay love?" He sounds happier, and that instantly cheers Rachel up.

"Yes! Oh, I'm excited! I can't wait to show you LA!" She's beaming as she pulls on a little purple cardigan and shoves her purse and keys in her pocket.

"Darling, you know I don't really like LA."

"You _will _like it, because _I'm_ here!" She giggles, and she hears him laugh through the phone.

"Very true. I have to go, Rachel. I'm heading out to lunch with some guys from the office."

She smiles into the phone as she heads out of her apartment, locking the door behind her. "Okay. Have a good day."

"Bye, my love."

"Bye!"

She hangs up then, immediately feeling a lot better about the day ahead. Who cares if the world thinks she's dating Noah? She has a fabulous boyfriend already, and she wouldn't change that.

… … …

Puck rolls his eyes as Rachel steps into the room and is almost attacked by Nick, who leaps up to hug her. He thinks Nick's about three seconds away from humping Rachel's leg, but Ben steps in to kiss Rachel on the cheek, and Nick moves away. Puck reaches out, grabs the dude's arm and pulls him back into his seat. Nick glares at him and Puck only shrugs his shoulders, flashing him a small smirk.

The guy's totally head over heels for her. That shit's kind of hilarious.

"Let's get started, shall we?" Ben says as Rachel smiles and takes a seat across the table from Puck, next to a small group of studio executives. He kicks her leg lightly under the table, for no real reason other than the fact that he wants to. She meets his eyes across the table and glares at him before she kicks him back, a hell of a lot harder than he did. He jerks a little in his chair, and she breaks into a smirk at the dirty look he sends her.

Chick looks hot when she smiles all self-righteously like that. He's not gonna lie.

"So I'm sure we've all seen the newspapers this morning," Ben begins, and Puck watches Rachel bite her lip. "For those of you who haven't, Puck and Rachel have graced the front covers along with some story about their new relationship. This is, of course, a lie. Nothing but a fake piece of gossip."

Ben turns to look at Puck and Rachel then, his eyes wide, excited. "We need it to be real. Kind of."

What the fuck?

"What the fuck?" Puck leans back in chair, and watches Ben with an expression of complete disbelief. "What are you talking about?"

"He's talking about the fact that in just a matter of hours, the movie has become the subject most searched about on Yahoo," An executive named Jeremy stands up and walks over to Ben. "Because of you two, the movie is hot news, and we need it to stay that way."

"I don't understand," Rachel chimes in, and everyone turns to look at her. "What are you asking of us here?"

Ben purses his lips, choosing his next words carefully, and Puck knows what's coming. He doesn't like this one bit.

"We're asking you to please consider forging a relationship with each other for the sake of the movie."

Rachel's mouth drops open and Puck frowns, running a hand over his mohawk.

"You can't be serious!" Rachel splutters, and Puck looks at her as she protests to Ben, her face slightly reddened. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! This movie is great, it doesn't need a fake relationship to increase interest! The well-written script and the talents of Leon and I will enforce it to stand on it's own. Right?"

Jeremy shakes his head. "Actually, no. I hate to admit it but we're in trouble. There's no buzz around this movie at all, and we need this or we may have to close production."

"What?" Rachel gasps, and she looks at Puck, her eyes wide. "I asked you and you said-"

"I know what I said," Puck interrupts, crossing his arms. "I lied. Sue me."

She glares at him, and Puck shrugs. So he wanted to protect her from the bad news. No big deal.

"Listen, guys," Ben says and he takes the seat next to Rachel, resting a hand on his shoulder. He looks between the two as he speaks, his voice but understanding and eager. "We need this. Just this morning, thirteen different journalists called to request an interview with you two. This could make the movie big."

Rachel is biting her lip, unsure. "I don't..."

Ben squeezes her shoulder. "Rachel, don't you want your first movie to be a success? It could make you a star here in LA."

She still looks uncertain. "I have a boyfriend already."

"So? It's not like you and Puck would really be dating," Jeremy scoffs, and Puck sends the guy a murderous look for being so insensitive. Jackass.

"We're not going to force you to do something you don't want to do," Ben chimes in, and Rachel looks at him gratefully. "But please, consider it. This could be exactly what we've been needing. This could make your career."

Pick sighs. He knows Ben's right, and he knows the extreme problems that they've been having lately. He sits up in his chair. "Well, I'm in."

Rachel blinks at him. "You are?"

"Well yeah, but only if I can get a raise." He shrugs and looks at Ben, who smiles a little and looks at Jeremy. The guy looks unhappy about it, but he nods.

"I suppose we could manage that, if you two dating gets us the publicity we need. What do you say, Rachel?"

Everyone in the room turns to look at her and Puck can't help but notice how uncomfortable she looks. Shit. He moves his leg back to hers under the table and nudges her gently, and her head snaps up to look at him. She sighs.

"I don't know. Maybe. I'll consider it, but I need to talk to my boyfriend."

Jeremy frowns. "But can't you just-"

"She said she'll think about it," Puck snaps at Jeremy, and the dude shuts up, just scowls at Puck instead. He's always hated that douche. "Don't push her."

"Okay then," Ben gets to his feet once more, and gestures to the door. "I think we're done here for today. Rachel, just give us a call when you decide, okay? No pressure though. Like I said, we won't make you do something you don't want."

"Thank you," Rachel says quietly, and everyone stands, heading for the door.

"Uh, I don't think Puck and Rachel want to leave yet," Nick says suddenly, from where he stands at the window.

"Uh, why?" Puck moves over to stand with Nick, and he swears loudly when he looks out of the window to see a huge amount of paparazzi waiting in the parking lot, all straining to get a good shot of the doors. "_Shit._ Rachel, don't go out there."

The girl nods tiredly and takes a seat back at the table.

He's protective over her. So sue him for actually caring about this. Whatever.

Puck closes the blinds on the window, anger coursing through him. He knows exactly who called them, and turns to look at Jeremy, his stare furious and accusatory. "You got them here, didn't you?"

Jeremy shrugs casually, and it just angers Puck even more. "I may have called them earlier..."

"Fucking..." Puck trails off, clenching his fists as he walks back to the table. "Thanks. Thanks a lot, buddy." His voice drips with sarcasm, and he only stops when Nick claps his hand on his shoulder.

"I'll call security," Nick says, and he leaves the room, pulling Jeremy with him.

Rachel and Puck are left alone, and he's looking out of the window, but feels her eyes on him.

"Are you really okay with this?" She asks, and he moves to take the seat next to her.

"Well, it's not ideal, but I've seen this shit before," He says. "We kind of need to do it."

Rachel sighs. "I had no idea it was like this. You should have told me."

"And let you freak out over your first movie? I don't fucking think so. You'd have been hell to deal with."

Rachel smiles a little, shoving his shoulder. "Don't be mean to me."

He laughs. "I can do whatever I want. Hey, you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I just don't think Nathan is going to like this one bit."

"Your boyfriend? Stupid name."

"Hey. Don't."

"Whatever."

… … …

The first thing Rachel does when she gets back to her apartment is collapse on her sofa, without even bothering to take off her shoes. She thinks it's ridiculous that a security team had to help her get out of the building and into her car. Is this how it's going to be from now on? Okay, and so maybe there's a tiny little part of her that loves the attention, but most definitelynot to that extent. If it means that a crowd of photographers are going to follow her around LA, then she doesn't think she'll enjoy this business as much as she expected. In all honesty, it's actually quite terrifying needing a group of men to hold back people trying to get close to her, taking pictures and screaming things at her. The whole experience was rather stressful.

She calls Nathan.

"Rachel, darling! Hi! I can't talk for long, I'm about to go into the subway."

"Oh, it can wait," She says quickly, because sure enough, she can hear the bustle of the city in the background.

"No, no. What's wrong, love?"

"It's just... You know Noah?" She sounds uncertain, hesitant, and she knows that Nathan can tell.

"Your producer? The one who's kissing you in all the pictures? Yes, I know of him." His voice is cool, and Rachel sighs.

"Ben asked me to maybe forge a relationship with him to help the movie," She says, a strange type of guilt running through her. She bites her lip and continues speaking, quickly, before Nate can get a chance to reply. "I know, I know! It's crazy! But we really need the publicity. They're talking about shutting down the whole entire movie."

There's silence on the other side of the phone.

"Nathan?"

A deep breath sounds, and Rachel clutches the phone tighter.

"Nate? Would you rather I didn't do this?"  
>"It sounds like you've already made up your mind, Rachel." His voice is cold, seething anger, and Rachel shrinks back into her sofa, hating this. "First a date and now a relationship. Do whatever the hell you want. Just call me when you remember me, will you?"<br>"Nathan, no, it's not like that-"  
>She's interrupted by the dial tone. He's hung up on her.<p>

Her eyes filling with tears, Rachel quickly redials his number, and let's out a soft sob as he sends her straight to voicemail.  
>She's not sure what she's supposed to do.<p>

… … …

Rachel shows up to set the next day feeling drained and tired, and judging from Noah's reaction, she doesn't look any better than she feels.

"What's up with you?" He asks as he catches up with her in the parking lot. He looks her up and down, jogging backwards in front of her while she strides to her trailer. "You hungover?"

Rachel's mouth drops open and she stops in her tracks, staring blankly at him. "Thank you for implying that I look a total wreck. That just completely made my day, Noah. You're so full of charm sometimes! No wonder women throw themselves at your feet."

And with that, she marches around him and continues on her way, leaving him standing behind her, mouth hanging open slightly.

It's not fair. He's obviously just shoved on shorts and a shirt, sprayed on some deodorant. Why does he have to look so good with no effort at all? She'd spent over an hour on her make-up alone this morning, using nearly a full tube of concealer in an attempt to hide the dark circles under her eyes, a result of no sleep and endless worrying. She'd lay in bed, tossing and turning for hours, unable to shake the guilt. She'd tried to call Nate a bunch of times throughout the evening, and every single one of her calls had been ignored.

"Hey!" She hears Noah call from behind her and she keeps walking. He catches up with her easily. "Hey, don't be pissy."

She turns to look at him, her stare almost murderous. "Well you told me I look bad!"

"Naw, I didn't," He protests, falling into pace beside her. "I just meant that you look tired. Not bad. Shit, Berry. Have you seen you? You're smoking hot."

She ignores the sudden flip her stomach does. She has to. She can't, however, ignore the small, involuntary smile that graces her lips.

"Don't," She murmurs, looking at the ground, and oh God, she thinks she's blushing. What is happening right now?

"S'true." He insists. "Now stop being a bitch. I can't be fucked with it today. You okay, or whatever?"  
>He's so insensitive. But he's kind of right, even if he shows no sign of tact whatsoever.<br>"I'm fine, Noah. Go away."

"You got it," He says, and winks at her as he cuts across her path and heads in the direction of the set, where she knows he'll go straight for the food table.

… … …

Puck finds Rachel later that day, and goddamn, she looks fucking miserable. She's sitting at one of the small tables with just a small cup of frozen yoghurt in front of her, slowly typing something into her phone. He can't stop himself from sliding over and taking the seat next to her. Whatever, he doesn't want her to be like, legit sad, okay?

Fuck. So much for that stay-out-of-her-way-and-continue-to-hate-her plan of his. That didn't really work out so well.

"Yes, Noah?" Rachel asks tightly, not taking her eyes off her cell. Puck laughs at that, and reaches for her little plastic spoon, dipping it into her yoghurt.

"Just making sure you're okay," He says lightly, mouth full of dessert. Rachel glances at him then, and rolls her eyes.

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

She gives him that cold stare again, and Puck shrugs. What? He's just telling it like it is.

"Give me one good reason why I should tell you my problems," She challenges, and Puck smirks. "Why do you even care?"

"I don't care," He says honestly, stealing some more of her yoghurt. "But who the fuck else do you have to talk to here? It's Hollywood. You talk about shit with strangers and it ends up on Perez Hilton. So I'm your safest bet, babe."

She sighs, tucking some of her hair over her shoulder. "Don't call me that."

"Sure thing, babe."

"Urgh."

He grins. There's just something about getting a reaction out of her that gives him a feeling of satisfaction. "C'mon, Broadway. Spill."

Rachel looks away from him, down to her hands, and she kind of looks smaller than usual, if that even makes any sense at all. It probably doesn't. Whatever.

"It's Nate." She admits quietly, and it's then Puck notices how tense her shoulders are.

"Stupid name," He says light-heartedly, and she looks at him.

"So you've said."

He smirks at her. "So what did he do?"

Rachel shakes her head hesitantly, and bites gently on her lower lip for a moment before she answers. "It's silly really... I- He's ignoring me."

Puck scoffs at that. "Not possible."

"Excuse me?"

"Rachel, I hate to break it to you, but out of all the people in the goddamn world, you're probably the one who's hardest to ignore. I mean, shit, you're like _really_ loud. And you never know when to quit."

She looks offended, but really, that isn't even an insult. Okay, so maybe it came out badly, but he didn't mean it to sound like that.

"So I'm pushy and obnoxious?" She says, eyes narrowed. Puck can only nod and grin sheepishly.

"Well... Yeah. But shit, not in like, a bad way."

Rachel inhales sharply, and brings a hand up to rub at her temples, kind of like she has a headache. "You are so, so bad at this."

"Hey, I never said I was _good_. So what's this douche's deal anyway? Why is he ignoring you?"

She shoves gently at his arm, her eyes flashing with annoyance. "Don't call him that, Noah! God, it's... I told him about the meeting yesterday, and unsurprisingly, he didn't like the idea of me pretending to date another man."

Oh, yeah. That. Puck nods, because okay, that's kind of understandable. It's fair enough that they really need to get a buzz going with this movie or the company will pull the plug, but yeah, shit must be awkward for Rachel's boyfriend.

"What did he say?" Puck asks, and Rachel shakes her head sadly.  
>"Nothing, really. He pretty much hung up as soon as I pitched the idea."<p>

"Shit Rachel, he sounds like a pretentious asshole."  
>"Noah!"<br>"Yeah, yeah. Sorry."

Rachel smiles a little and reaches over to take her spoon back from his hand, and he watches her silently as she dips it in the yoghurt and licks it from the spoon, and holy shit. Now he's half hard. She has absolutely no idea how sexy she looks doing that. There's a little spot of the dessert at the corner of her lip, and Puck's mouth goes dry as he watches her dart her tongue out to lick it off.

Fuck.

"For the record," Puck says in an attempt to distract himself from looking at Rachel's lips. "I'd make a fucking kick-ass fake boyfriend."

Rachel legit snorts, and the sound makes him smile a little.

"Says the womanizing man whore." Rachel giggles, and her hand flies to her mouth, like she can't believe she even said that.

Puck waggles his eyebrows at her. "But a womanizing man whore who'd fake rock your world."

"Oh, stop it!" Rachel protests, but she's laughing, loudly and freely. Her face instantly looks ten times lighter, and fuck yeah, he's the man.

"Are you doubting me?" Puck probes, elbowing her lightly, and she doesn't reply, just smiles at him in a know-it-all way that reminds him of when they were younger, when she'd just proved Mr Schuester wrong.

Puck fakes offense. "You're totally questioning my badassness!"

Rachel shakes her head amusedly. "On the contrary, Noah, I'm actually questioning your ability to be a decent, mature man. I know well enough that your badassness can't be questioned."

"Fuck yeah, it can't," He agrees proudly. It makes her scoff.

"You know, for a egoistic man whore, you can be very-"

Rachel's cut off by the sound of her phone ringing, and she gasps as she looks down at the screen. Puck reads Nate's name over her shoulder.

She doesn't even spare him a look before she accepts the call and presses the phone to her ear. She immediately gets up from the table, breathing her boyfriend's stupid name into her cell as she walks away, heading for an empty room.

She's left her frozen yoghurt on the table, and so he steals it, immediately spooning a half the cup into his mouth as he watches her hurry away.

He wonders what she was going to say. He can be very _what_?

… … …

Rachel finds an empty corridor and her heart is pounding as she talks to Nate. She's always hated it when people are mad at her. She thinks she's just one of those girls who needs to be liked, especially by the people that she cares about. She's just not good at arguments.

"Nate, I'm so sorry," She breathes into the phone, moving to lean against the nearest wall. "I'll figure out something else, I don't need to-"

He interrupts her in a slightly subdued version of his normal voice. "No, it's okay. I can handle this."  
>She licks her lips. "What are you saying?"<p>

Nate takes a deep breath at the other end of the phone. "What exactly would this fake relationship entail?"

"Oh, Nate, it would be nothing major," Rachel replies earnestly into the phone. "I'd never put us through anything to seriously jeopardize us, you know that. It would only be a few interviews, arriving at a couple of events together, some photo opportunities. That's all."

There's a brief silence, and all she can hear is his steady breathing. Rachel nibbles nervously on her lip.

"Okay," Nathan agrees. "Fine. But Rachel, don't let this guy take advantage-"

"Nathan, I won't! Of course I won't," She reassures him quickly, and she can feel her entire body just relax out of sheer relief. "I love you."

"I love you too, Rachel. I hope you know that."

"I do," She breathes. "I do."

… … …

Later that night in his apartment, Puck hangs up his phone. Ben has just called him, telling him that Rachel agreed to their plan, and that he should release an official statement to the press next week, after going to some premiere with crazypants this Friday. The dude sounds fucking ecstatic and yeah, whatever, good for him.

So Puck's now got himself a fake girlfriend who just happens to be his ex. His ex who he just happens to have all kinds of crazy mixed feelings for. This should be interesting, to say the least.

He texts Rachel a quick little message, before he heads into the kitchen to get himself a beer.

… … …

Rachel's lying in bed when her phone vibrates, signaling a message. She puts down her book and smiles fondly at the text message, shaking her head as she types out a reply.

_Ready 4 me 2 rock ur world? ;)_

_Goodnight, Noah._


End file.
